Innocence of a Queen
by Kerie Nightingale
Summary: Hundreds of years before Witch walked the realms, Tirrador is in danger of the creeping taint of Dorothea. Adele Ashlyn, a young Queen, must realize her own power and save her home from falling under the shadow of Hayll.
1. Chapter 1

This world is originally created by Anne Bishop and found in the Black Jewels Trilogy and other works. I have created a fan fiction from it, using largely all original characters and created my own Territory that is located in Terreille.

Innocence of a Queen is my first public work, and as such, I am very excited to release it into your capable hands. I hope you all enjoy my story as much as I did writing it. As a relatively new writer, reviews are vitally important (as well as relished.) If you liked (or didn't like) my story, please let me know! Right now my goal is to release a new chapter every month, so look forward to Chapter 2 next month!

_Author Edit 10/24/11: I am putting up slightly different versions of each chapter. There isn't enough to merit reading it all over again (though you could if you want) it is just for new readers and for my own sake so new developments later on in the story make more sense. _

**Innocence of a Queen**

**~Chapter 1~**

**1/Delacova**

Adele Ashlyn was careful to keep her eyes closed and her mind concentrated on the fairly simple yet elegant healing web in front of her. She was so enthralled she couldn't feel her body standing rigidly still, feet placed slightly apart for balance. Her arms felt numb as they stretched towards the web, pouring her Opal-Jeweled power steadily into it. She even pretended that she couldn't feel that oh-so-charming itch just on the tip of her nose. She didn't hear as exasperated sighs rose from the room as her fellow peers either failed to keep their "patient" asleep for the specified time, or couldn't get them to sleep in the first place.

"Okay ladies, the time in which I asked you to keep your patient asleep for is over. You may begin to pull your power out of your webs just like we practiced." Not pausing to open her eyes, Adele did as she was instructed, as she had done countless times before in just the same way. The only difference was that this time she had an actual subject to practice on. Slowly, she felt the power that resided within the web subsiding. Adele did not let her attention waver, even when the strain of keeping the spell together gradually stopped.

After the power had been drained, Adele relaxed her hold on the web altogether and she opened her eyes easily, laughing in quiet wonder at having successfully done a difficult healing technique. She looked around to see that no one else besides Chanie and herself had completed the healing sleep successfully. The other girl lowered her arms to show that she, too, was finished.

Chanie twirled around to talk with the Lady Swanelle about something or other. The other girl's eyes shone with pride as she ran a hand through her slightly curly hair, a clear sign of thoughtfulness. She always did that when she was thinking about a lesson or memorizing something Lady Swanelle said. Though she excelled at everything she had done during her Healer's training, Adele had always been one slightly smaller step behind Chanie, so she had watched her and learned some interesting ways to work through it that differed from her own.

There were only ten Healers-in-training in this particular group, all of Lady Swanelle's pupils came to her house to train young hopeful Healers. The Lady was the most skilled Healer in the town, and now she not only saw patients, but trained new Healers with the gift. The girls came from a variety of families in Delacova, ranging from middle-class all the way up to aristos such as Adele. They had progressively been getting more and more advanced in their lessons using the healing web, starting on small animals by putting them to sleep and moving onto larger ones. Then finally they began practicing the highly difficult healing sleep on each other. If she continued with her training at this same pace, Adele could become a fully-qualified Healer before her eighteenth birthday arrived.

"Good job, Adele, Chanie." Lady Swanelle beamed at the two girls, who both smiled shyly. _That's the beauty of healing lessons_, Adele thought, _no one is cocky, everyone is gentle in nature and caring._Certainly better than her regular curriculum. Adele offered a hand to the girl who she had been practicing on, who accepted it groggily and stood, wiping her eyes. "Sorry about that," she said in a gentle tone that Chris had jokingly labeled "soothing Queen." Still, it did what it was meant to do; put everyone around her at ease. She offered the girl a reassuring smile and received one in return.

"You were a very good patient." Adele added and was rewarded with a shy smile as the girl got up and bowed to her before picking up her sack and scurrying outside. Behind her, Chanie had gathered her things and swept past her, leaving the scent of roses behind. Adele sighed with wistful jealously and bent down to pick up her own things before offering Lady Swanelle a smile and stepping out in to the cool autumn air to meet her ride home.

* * *

The carriage bumped on the road cheerily, bouncing Adele as she looked out at the swiftly passing trees that covered most of Tirrador, the Territory Adele called her home. Adele was a member of the Ashlyn family, an aristo family that was high up on the social rungs of their Territory, and certainly in their town of Delacova. Adele, being a sixteen year-old Queen and Healer-in-training, was the pride and joy of the Ashlyn family.

Winston, the family's painfully formal elderly butler coughed politely and turned his head to look out the window, getting Adele's attention. She followed his aged blue eyes to catch a breathtaking sight of the Ashlyn manor house. It was tastefully nestled among the woods as if it had always belonged there, the trees huddling around it as if welcoming it's presence among them. Adele had always found it quite symbolic because in fact trees were a large part of all of their lives, as most of Tirrador was covered in lush forests, Delacova being no exception to this. The house was a cool shade of white, the color naturally faded around corners and edges, giving it a more relaxed feel than some of the other houses in the area, which rigorously kept up the paint to give their homes a painfully rigid feel. Trimmed ivy licked the bottom part of the manor house, the rest of the grounds decorated in winsome patters of semi-wild plants that allowed one to relax while viewing the house rather than being able to point out the soil between each flower. Adele sighed with pleasure as the carriage rounded the drive and stopped gracefully in front of her home.

As soon as she stepped out onto the drive the seemingly tranquil air about the mansion shattered. Adele was swept into a whirlwind of activity. People bustled about the house in frenzied anticipation for the ball that as being hosted by the Lathan family. You'd think the Ashlyn's were hosting the party judging from the way her mother had everyone hopping. But the invitations had hinted that this party had some special importance so Adele couldn't blame her mother for being flustered. With three women and their father to dress, and all the formalities to remember it would be a wonder if she still remembered today's lesson by the time it was all over. Taking a deep breath, Adele steadied herself and walked into the thick of the activity, hoping she'd come out of it intact.

* * *

Adele opened her bedroom door and shut it gently behind her. She had finally made it to her rooms after rebutting everyone's eager remarks about the all-consuming ball that night. Adele felt her stomach twisting at the thought of having to present herself in front of Tirrador's finest. It would be the first time since she was little that all the important Blood in Tirrador would be watching her. The Territory Queen was chosen by the majority of the darker Jeweled Blood in her Territory, and everything Adele did now would be scrutinized, assessed, and put on display. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. _You just need to breathe, and be yourself, they can't ask for more than that._She opened her eyes and studied her room.

Adele smiled and grabbed a book from the shelf, intent on burying her worries in a light Craft lesson. Not ten minutes later a gentle rap sounded at the bedroom door. Too absorbed into her Craft book, Adele didn't look up or even acknowledge the sound, her deep blue eyes staring expressionless at the pages of the book. When she gave no answer, another, louder and more irksome knock sounded from the other side of the door. With an irritated flicker of her eyes to the door, she mumbled a greeting, signaling that whoever was behind the door could enter. Delphine, Adele's younger sister, popped her mischievous face out from behind the door and gave her a wicked grin. The impish face was framed by short, just-below-shoulder-length golden blonde hair that she styled to stick up in all directions.

Delphine was fourteen years old, two years younger than Adele, even so she had a temper twice as bad, and it usually went off twice as often. They were worlds apart, she and her sister. Both sisters showed promise to wear darker-Jewels when they made the Offering to the Darkness. Delphine was a natural Black Widow, that much had become apparent when she had reached puberty a few years ago. This had come much to the surprise of the rest of her family, as before that there simply were no Ashlyn Black Widows. She had begun to visit the Hourglass Coven of Tirrador regularly for training, but would have to leave soon for a full-time apprenticeship. Despite being from one of the best families in Delacova, and being as important as she was, Delphine was always looking for trouble, for one reason or another, and if there was none to be had… well she just made it for herself.

Adele groaned and theatrically turned away from her troublemaking sister to continue reading. It was an important lesson, one that couldn't be interrupted by another one of her sister's schemes. Couldn't. This was far too important. The book snapped shut and with a roll of her eyes she turned back to face Delphine. "So what sort of scheme has my hare-brained sister been cooking up inside that spiky little head of hers?" She asked with an exasperated grin, utterly defeated.

Adele laughed when she saw a reflection of her own expression on her sister's face. The sly grin that tasted of trouble and mischief was truly catching. Damn Delphine and her little schemes. Did she herself really look that terrible? The grin spread on her own face wider. Probably. Poor Madeline. The Ashlyn household's head maid, whom the girls had pet named Maddy when they were little, was usually the butt of more than a few of their little pranks, among others. She was just so fun to tease. The way she'd run after them with more speed than one would think could be coaxed out of the plump, middle-aged woman, bellowing their names and brandishing whatever was in her hand at the time was simply _so_endearing. They were never really bad, just active enough to keep the household on its toes, giving them all a constant reminder that they had two young witches underfoot.

"So?" Adele asked, prompting her sister as she jumped off the bed and turned to face her. Delphine walked in the room, her lovely hazel eyes watching her closely, holding out a small ball in her cupped hand. It looked like...some sort of large circular seed. It was the closest thing she could associate it with. Only it was glowing faintly with inner power. Intrigued, Adele leaned in and Delphine held it out to her so she could inspect it closer.

"It's an illusion spell." she said proudly, puffing slightly. "You throw it and where it lands, a stain of whatever you specify appears. No matter how long you scrub and clean it, it will remain until the power fades."

Adele looked from the spell to her sister, face blank. "How did you learn how to do this?"

Delphine shrugged and pulled it away. "Just learned it," She said quickly, ignoring the question completely. Then again, most of the time Adele didn't want to know how her sister did most things she did. It was usually better not to know. Dismissing all other questions, she held out a small bag full of the delightful little pieces of Black Widow Craft. A fresh evil grin lit her sister's face as she spoke. "I made different ones for all sorts of different stains: Dirt, oil, food, wine, and tons of other stuff." Realization hit Adele as she looked from the bag to Delphine.

"You little devil! So that's what you've been doing in your room the last few days. And here I thought you were actually getting interested in your schoolwork," she teased and was rewarded by a shriek and a playful slap that initiated an all out war between the two that led out into the hallway and down the lavish stairs.

By the time they had sobered up and were intent upon their task, the girls were crouched by the door in a sitting room while Maddy polished an ornate wooden table, humming away a merry tune. Adele looked regretfully at the bag of spells. "Poor Maddy. Makes me kind of regr-" But before she could even finish her sentence, Delphine had snorted ruefully and chucked two of the spells into the room. One landed on the floor and splattered about ten feet before hitting Maddy's dress with wine, the other Adele didn't see as her arm was snatched hard and they ran away with all possible speed away from the outraged screams coming from the sitting room. Holding their mouths to suppress giggles of delight, they scurried away to try more of Delphine's delightful spells.

* * *

"I still don't see why Mother got so upset." Delphine's pouty confusion at the obvious behind their mother's unusual foul mood almost made Adele want to laugh. The only thing that stopped her from doing so was the fact that there was nothing funny about their mother in a rare mood, especially right before an important social event. Their little prank on Maddy had done nothing for their poor mother's already frayed nerves. She was just as nervous as they were about the ball. She, too, knew what was at stake, even if Delphine didn't, or wouldn't acknowledge it. Josephine Ashlyn was a Rose-Jeweled hearth-witch who also happened to be aristo. Such a thing was simply unheard of in high-class society, but then Josephine Ashlyn had a way with people. No one could resist her smile, the moment people came into their home her charm swept them up in a welcoming they were not soon likely to forget.

Despite that, Adele knew the shame her mother felt at being a simple hearth witch who had married a wealthy aristo, not to mention darker-Jeweled Prince. She knew that by some her mother was sneered at and accused of "besotting" him to get what she wanted. But then again Adele also knew that Taylor loved Josephine with all his heart, and no one but she would make him happy. Taylor also happened to serve in the first circle of Lady Claude's Court, and he ruled the town of Delacova on his Lady's behalf. This difference in caste had her even more aware of her own "shortcomings". Josephine was, however, intensely proud of her two daughters, and flaunted them in public whenever she could.

Josephine had the same exact color strawberry blonde hair that Adele had been gifted with. Usually it was swept up in a lovely bun while she cooked or worked in the gardens or cleaned. Only her mother, a high standing aristo Lady, would go about making deals with the staff of _her_manor so she could find ways to appease her needs while not getting overexerted and still leading a somewhat normal aristo lifestyle. But then again, that was a heart-witch for you. They never seemed to run out of energy and that energy seemed to spill out to those around them.

Josephine had sent the household into a full-scale panic a few hours before they were to leave, trying to prepare and make everyone look acceptable. The poor maids burned themselves out trying to keep up with their adorable mother. Adele had to bring a dress she was looking at up over her mouth to cover a smile as her mother bustled in the room. Josephine put her hands on her only slightly plump but still curvy hips and demanded to know why they were, "dilly-dallying" when there was work to do.

The girls winced in unison and pulled themselves into standing upright positions. Adele cleared her throat as the two stood guiltily in front of their mother. "Sorry, mom, Delphine was just asking me to help her get into her dress." She threw out the first lie she could think of, so as not to invoke their mother's legendary but thankfully rare fury upon them. "I was just on my way to help her with it."

Their mother's eyes narrowed, and Adele wasn't sure if she had bought the lie or not, but she was appeased for now. She huffed and laughed, making Adele's stomach feel fluttery. The answering laugh bubbled up her throat, wanting to be released in response. Willfully, she swallowed it down. "Don't be silly, Adele, I'll send in a few maids to help Delphine. You need to get ready yourself." She paused and looked regretfully back at her two girls. "You know I'd help you but I've got to change out of this thing." She tugged with two pinched fingers at her simple outfit, covered with flour in the front and wrinkled her nose, then sighed and with a harried smile at them, whisked out of the room.

Delphine turned from the doorway and plopped down on Adele's bed again, shaking her head. "I don't get what all the fuss is about, everyone getting themselves all riled up over some party." Adele smiled softly. _You're worried too, sister, even though you won't show it._She turned and went back to her closet to retrieve her own gown chosen for tonight.

"It's just aristo affairs, I suppose." Her answer was greeted with an impudent snort, as she had known it would.

"It's all silly to me, but whatever, if it makes Mother happy." Her sister jumped off the bed and headed to the door, opening it and pausing for a moment to look back at Adele from the doorway. "You were always better at this stuff than me." She turned and a moment later a startled look dashed across her face. A split-second later she darted out of the way to make room for the two maids bustling in to help Adele with her dress. With a wave of her hand and a resigned smirk, Delphine was off to her room to change. She could have sworn she saw two more maids streaking down the hall after her sister just before the door closed. A smile crossed Adele's face. They were going to have a lovely time trying to coax Delphine into her gown in time for the ball. While she was dressing, she amused herself with things that they might bribe her with, but the list ran out quickly, and Adele found herself forced back into reality as the vicious game of "getting that dress on" began.

**2/Delacova**

Adam Lathan, the most explosive and violent member of the Lathan manor, burst through the large ornate entrance doors with a blast of Green-Jeweled power and strode into the lobby. A dangerous gleam bloomed to life in his emerald eyes as he looked around and saw no sign of the conniving wench. He snarled viciously at the various servants who skittered out of his way and plastered themselves to the walls of the room in an effort to get away from him, or at least not remind them they existed. Adam whirled around and caught an elder maid by the back of her dress and hauled her in front of him with ease that could only be achieved with Craft.

"Where is she?" He shouted, "where is Aveline?" The terrified woman just stared, and even if she had the answer to his question, it fled from her mind at the sight of his hot anger. With a growl, he shoved her aside and stalked the rest of the line, looking for a weak spot. He swirled with elegance that spoke of court training and an aristo lifestyle, and clutched a butler's throat, hauling him into the air.

"S-s-she's in the library!" The poor man finally choked and was rewarded by being dropped none too gently. And with that the dangerous but still not fully mature male stormed out of the room to find the person whom he had hated with all his being his entire life.

Now that he knew where his quarry lay, Adam had no trouble getting to the library, navigating the lavish halls of the manor towards the library with ease. He tried the door only to discover it had been locked. With a mere flick of his explosive power, the door unlocked and flew open, slamming against the other wall with a terrifying thud that shook the room. More than a few of the books wobbled in their cases dangerously as he strode into the room, coating it instantly with the psychic scent of violence.

"Aveline you bitch!" Adam's voice was rough and harsh from all the yelling he had done today, but he barely even noticed the ache in his throat. A young woman with generous feminine curves and flowing black hair turned slowly, caught in the act of putting a book back onto the shelf. She smiled coolly at him, an elegant black eyebrow arching.

"Hello, Adam." Her voice that was like sweet venom, intoxicating and deadly for all whose ears it fell upon. "What is the problem, dear brother?" Aveline said in false concern. Her calm demeanor and voice only irritated him further, scraping against his enflamed nerves.

"You know exactly what's wrong you whoring wench! You tried to whore me off again with one of those little pets you call friends." Just the memory of that little bitch slinking around in his room, parading herself as if she had already bedded him made his blood boil. His ears pounded with the anger that was in his very nature. Adam's skin burned where her hands had touched him, but not with lust. He could feel every inch of his skin that she had stroked, trying to seduce him into the bed and only succeeding in getting her wrist broken and being thrown out of his room. "How much was it this time?"

Aveline only smiled as she approached him, swaying her hips in what he was supposed to think was invocative. Her silky, terrifying hands brushed the left side of his neck and began to caress it with venomous care. His eyes flared opened wide in shocked revulsion. His stomach reeled in response to his sister's sexual act. Adam had never understood Aveline's sick twisted interest in pursuing him, even though they were full-blood related. A slow smile spread across her lips before she spoke.

"It was enough to at least try to get you to spear someone." She said in a girlish, pouty voice as her hand stroked his neck gently and was rewarded by a light, though unwilling moan.  
"Brother you will need to do it someday, and soon." Aveline narrowed her eyes and quickly pressed her thumb into a pressure point. A moment later she wore an expression of shock as Adam's hand clamped on her arm with bruising force and twisted it. She released his neck and whimpered softly in pain, trying to back away from him but still caught in his embrace.

"You try that again bitch and you'll never have use of this arm again." Not waiting for a response and too weary of these witches who thought they could use him for their games, Adam pushed her away from him and walked out of the room.

* * *

He reached his own room, slid out of his jacket and fell onto his bed in one swift movement. As bad as Aveline was, she was still only an Opal-Jeweled Black Widow, a witch who didn't wear a dark jewel and thus posed no threat to a Green-Jeweled Warlord Prince. She was just a bitch who enjoyed power and would never have enough to satiate her hunger. As soon as he could leave for his formal training he would leave her and all her games behind forever. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down, stepping away from the inherent violence that made a Warlord Prince so dangerous.

_ That was certainly enough excitement for me today_, he thought dryly as he stared at his ceiling. Then again it was early afternoon and that damned ball was going to be tonight. He suppressed a growl that was welling in his throat and sighed. The day was getting progressively worse because of all the buzz going on about the ball his family was hosting. The excited atmosphere was electric and it had everyone on edge. Adam sincerely hoped that this masquerade ball would turn out better than the previous ones. But since all of the same wealthy families in the village were invited and were expected to attend, he seriously doubted it. With another gusty sigh he resigned himself to another evening of aristo games. This one wasn't going to be any different. The same old game but on a different night.

He was a Green-jeweled Warlord Prince, probably one of the strongest in all of Tirrador, from a wealthy aristo family with standing. All the witches practically tripped over themselves to have a chance to bed him, to get more than simply a night with a powerful male who could give them everything their wicked minds could ever hope to achieve. Hell he wasn't even at his full power yet, the Green was still his Birthright jewel. He laughed with bitterness. It was only ever about what he was, what he looked like, and who he knew. They didn't care about who he was, what he wanted. Not one of them had ever considered that. He closed his eyes, silently wishing that there would be something new, something different tonight that would answer the aching call in his heart for something more. Amused at his own fantasies, Adam smiled softly and closed his eyes. Even if something miraculous was to happen tonight, he would still have to wait for the night to arrive to find out what it might be.

**3/Delacova**

Dreast shifted uncomfortably in the leather chair in Lady Lathan's sitting room. As the minutes trickled by past the set time of their appointment he began to fidget. Damn this witch for making him wait! He was a Hayllian, a member of the long-lived races and did not have to grovel like this to a Tirrador witch! Still, his Lady had sent him here to serve Aveline in her plans and he would not fail her-could not fail her. It was only recently that he himself had secured a place in The High Priestess of Hayll's First Circle. He hadn't gotten the position easily, the dance of the court was something he had perfected. He knew just how dangerous one little comment could be, could change a man's life...or end it. Over the past centuries, Dorothea had taken under her wing those Territories that "needed a guiding hand" from the more experienced races. So now at least half of Terrielle stood in the shadow of Hayll, and Dorothea SaDiablo. As much as Aveline Lathan scared him, Dorothea frightened him much, _much_ more. After all , what was one scheming little bitch compared to the High Priestess of Hayll? Dorothea ruled more than half of the Territories in Terrielle, Aveline had plans for one. And that was why he remained in the chair, waiting for this little bitch to finish whatever-or whomever-she was doing and get to him and their appointment.

It had been a few years ago when Aveline had started her formal training that she had peaked the interest of Dorothea. As a hungry youth with a measure of power but not of the proper caste to rule, she showed promise. As a pouty, spoiled aristo witch who was a Natural Black Widow-but only that-she was a treasure. Aveline had the hunger, the ambition to take over Tirrador but not the support. That was where Dorothea came in. With a little nudge from his Lady, Aveline had already started her plans to bring Tirrador under Hayll's thumb, where she would rule in exchange for bowing to Dorothea's dominant power. After all she was a member of the long-lived races, and could not waste her time here. But he could, and would, until Tirrador was brought to heel.

* * *

Aveline Lathan closed the door that adjoined her bedroom with the smaller sitting room with a smart little snap. She lowered her hand and finished slipping into her black silken robe. The young woman lingered to feel the cloth briefly, enjoying the sensuous feel of it sliding between her fingers before turning towards her guest. The movement revealed smooth skin the color of diluted olive oil through the generous slit in the side of the robe. Not on accident had she just moments ago been taking a shower and had, of course, "forgotten" that he would be coming. Her incredibly long black hair was, at the moment, damp and flowing down her back. Recognizing the man waiting for her in a lavish leather chair, and more notably the hungry gleam in his gold eyes, she smiled coyly to herself.

Satisfied for the moment, but with her temper not quite wholly appeased, Aveline tied the robe so that it hugged her naked body underneath and headed briskly for her chair. The scent of her shampoo whisked through the room along with her. With a delicate flourish of the dark fabric she settled into a position that best favored the split in the robe to reveal shapely, inviting legs, one over the other. Her elbows she placed on the arms of the chair, steepling her elegant fingers together loosely. Those long fingers were finished with nails worn long, as all Black Widows, to hide the deadly snake tooth under the ring finger. One little prick with that finger into the flesh, one tiny pump of her venom and it would be all over for him. With this comforting thought in mind, she adorned an expression of cool disinterest and settled her startling green eyes upon him as if waiting.

The reason he was here was painfully obvious, still, she wanted to make him sweat. Almost obvious, she amended as she watched him shift in his chair, as if he were bored. She wanted to scream with frustration. Surely her performance would have gotten something more out of him! Aveline swallowed her anger for the time being and focused on what really mattered, the news he bore. "Well, did you make sure all of those invitations were mailed to the right witches and their families?" Her voice was like a sticky sweet venom, beautiful to behold but dangerous to anger and few could resist her when she decided she wanted something from them.

"Yes, Lady, I made sure they got them and they will all be attending, just as you said they would." Of course they would attend, it was a request from the prestigious Lathan family, who would dare object? She thought as she watched him pause and then hesitate, licking his lips. Maybe she had been too hasty in thinking she had had no effect. Finally the fidgety man spoke in an oily voice, "With all due respect, Lady, I still do not understand why we would want to gather them all at once and then let them leave without as much as a scratch. Wouldn't it be easier to simply get rid of the lot of them while they are gathered?" For such foolery, he was rewarded with a sugary sweet smile. She opened her mouth, licked her bottom lip before speaking.

"Did you know I own a Bonsai tree, Dreast?" Turning in her seat, she made a movement with her hand to show him the little tree on a small table beside her. With slow, exact movements she reached a hand down and opened a drawer in the table, revealing a pair if clippers in her capable hands. She held it up to her face, inspecting the blade with a careful eye before focusing at the man sitting across from her. His head was perfectly aligned in between the blades and she snapped the clippers together for a quick moment, cutting his face off from view. _All in good time_, she reminded herself. When he didn't move an inch, his face caught in a carefully neutral expression, she turned once again to her tree. "Did you know that caring for a Bonsai tree takes a skilled individual? One who has watched every single branch grow and mature from as if they were their own children." A tenderness filled her voice as she lovingly stroked one of the branches with a finger. "One who has watched their budding days, could see the potential in them as they grew, and saw the day when they would become too wild."

Aveline sighed wistfully and cut off the branch with cold precision. In the corner of her eye she watched tiny beads of sweat form on Dreast's dark-skinned brow. "Still, it is with regret that for the betterment of the tree that many of these branches be cut." Another was clipped. Gooey sap leaked from the wound and dripped. "It requires the skill of one who has intimate knowledge of the tree and what is best for it to prune each branch that is viewed as," she paused. "A danger to the interest as a whole," Her voice was cool and concise as she trimmed her tree. Another branch gone. She positioned her hand perfectly for the next cut. Another cut. Another branch fell. The sticky liquid crawled down from the sharp remainder of the branch and down the slender trunk before stopping at the base of the tree. "Carefully, each blight in the master plan is cleared away until…" Sighing with content she pulled the clippers away to reveal a much more sedate and controlled Bonsai tree. The golden liquid seeped from so many branches being cut away. "…You have your masterpiece. The final result."

Cold green eyes slid upwards to capture startled gold ones. She held the clippers up near her face and inspected the blood, looking content. "You see, the ball tonight will very much be… a pre-pruning process, I suppose you could call it. We will observe and determine what branches of the Blood will be a threat to the masterpiece as a whole. Then we must decide what branches will be allowed to exist, and what ones should be trimmed." Aveline placed the tool down onto the side table, the blades hanging over the edge. The remaining sap on the clippers slowly formed a golden drop of the sticky liquid, and hung there for a long moment before it dripped onto the expensive carpet, forever staining it with the blood of the tree.

Dreast watched the sap drip and gathered himself carefully. Swallowing, he spoke. "You are truly inspiring, Lady."

**4/Delacova**

A muffled knock sounded at Adam's door. Ignoring it, he shifted in his bed, but did not move. No more than a second later the door cracked, letting the harsh light from the hallway streak into the room. The light hit his eyes and they slitted open. A small girlish silhouette appeared in the doorway. Adam groaned again, turning away from the light and shut his eyelids into their respective places. A minute body jumped on top of him and giggled softly. "Adam, wakey wakey." His younger sister's childish voice chirped in his ear. He slowly turned his head and looked at Ivy's small face.

He and his adorable little half sister looked nothing alike, as was to be expected, since his mother was a bit too "accommodating" to the younger men of the village. He had never understood why his father had turned a willing blind eye on her adulterous night ramblings. But then again, Raphael, for all his strength, was always tender-hearted and would rather ignore the obvious that cause trouble with his wife. As much as she liked to hide it, it was obvious Sybilla was sleeping around with lighter-Jeweled males because of her last two children. Valentine and Ivy wore the Yellow and the Rose Jewels. Raphael wore the Sapphire and Sybilla wore the Purple Dusk Jewels. Everyone knew a match like that couldn't produce such weak children, but that's just what their marriage was, nothing more than a "smart match," sure his father loved Sybilla, but she had always detested his soft gentleness.

"What do you want, shrimp?" Adam said enervated as he stared at her dark, almost black wavy hair and soft, light brown eyes that glowed with happiness. She was a pretty little thing, and would be lovely someday. He growled softly at the thought. _The first boy that tries to touch her is getting his hand ripped off_. Of his siblings, Ivy was the only one he could stan. On the contrary, Adam was his half-sister's primary playmate, and the only one who had the time or patience to indulge in her games. If it wasn't for his little sister, Adam's life at the Lathan Manor would have been completely unbearable.

"Mum told me to tell you to get ready for the party tonight." Ivy hopped off him and giggled as he made a half-assed attempt to pull himself up off the bed.

"Is it really almost time?" Adam asked in a bleary voice as he finally managed to sit up.

"Well you've been asleep for a long time, Addy." Ivy giggled after she used the nickname she had given Adam a few years ago. He narrowed his eyes at this sister and without taking them off the little imp, called in a lavish coffer filled to the brim with clothing.

He began to slowly go through the clothes, displaying each piece with care for Ivy's "tasteful" opinion. Every time he picked something he might like, she made a sound of disapproval , the piece was too revealing, old, or something she just didn't like. Finally after throwing almost every piece of clothing aside Adam finally managed to put together an attire that was approved by his young sister, a white tunic top, a formal black jacket with the Lathan coat of arms emblazoned on the left lapel, a pair of black tapered pants, and a pair of black dress shoes. "There are you happy now?" Adam asked, vexed.

She just beamed at him and bounced on the bed as she spoke. "Yep, now get your butt dressed and come out to the ball." With that jumped off the bed and skipped over to the door and spun to face Adam. "You better have found a new mask this year. That other one is so...plain." She made a sour face and shuddered theatrically. He scowled in response and shooed her out.

A lock of Adam's brilliant orange hair fell over his eye as he sighed wearily, but smiled at the closed door. That little witch was already a handful, and when she got older she was only going to get worse. With Ivy vacated, he tediously peeled off the clothes he had been wearing, revealing light brown skin that was uncommon among most who lived in the wooded Territory. The same skin coloring that belonged to Aveline and his mother, Sybilla. He frowned at himself in the mirror, not sure he liked that association. Still, against his hair that was an odd blend of orange and blonde, his skin made him look rather exotic. He suppressed a growl as he thought about the witches at the other parties who had "complimented" him on his odd looks. In a growing cloud of thoughtful anger, he dressed slowly, watching himself in the full length mirror against the wall. True, he was beautiful to them, but if any of those simpering little girls ever became too forward he would show him why Warlord Princes were so feared and respected among the Blood.

In that moment he felt very unclean, like just by those women thinking about him that way, just by being near him, he had been tainted. He felt sick and weary and beaten. _Just for once I wish that someone who isn't a common slut would be interested in me._Adam thought as he slipped on the tighter than normal pants. He laughed softly at himself and put on his shoes to his feet and started for the door at a slow stalk. Adam called in his new mask, settling it into place as he walked toward the party.

The door opened and the young Warlord Prince strode through the doorway. Ivy waited across the hall in a small chair, her nine-year old mind bouncing with excitement. At the sight of him she hopped off the chair, her long brown hair flowing behind her as she hurried towards Adam. Stopping to wait for her, he shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. He gritted his teeth as he took in her little white dress, thinking of how cute and gorgeous she was. He vaguely wondered if boys her age took interest in girls yet. He couldn't remember.

"What took you so long? I thought you were never coming out." Her young voice was riddled with annoyance that was a fair imitation of their mother's simpering tone, even if she didn't notice it. Adam didn't give her an answer, but turned and started strolling down the hall with his hands in his pockets, still too absorbed in his own thoughts to hear his little half-sister's complaints.

His thoughts were finally broken as they entered the spacious ballroom and saw the mass of people already assembled. His green eyes widened in disbelief, he couldn't believe that there were this many guests. _There hadn't even been half as many as this last year_, he thought as he probed the room, searching for someone familiar. Finally a recognizable psychic scent struck him and he smiled beneath the mask. A childish, giddy excitement seized him for a moment before he shoved it away and was able to regain a rational thought. So, he was here. Adam wheeled around to face Ivy and looked down at her. "Go find some of your friends, I can't watch you all night." With a huff she hurried away, weaving through the partygoers with experteice.

He faced the mass of people and straight headed into the fray. Slowly making his way through a maze of bodies, he reached where he thought the physic scent was coming from and found it simply gone. Damn it where was he? Adam probed again and found the scent once more, in a different place this time, and began stalking towards it. _So, it is to be a hunt then? _Entertained by the idea, he followed the trail through the crowd, his mind intent on the hunt and nothing else.

Before he had gone two steps his shoulder was snatched by a hand. Nails bit into his jacket and forced Adam to stop. He growled as he turned his head to see his elder sister. "What do you want?" Adam asked as his eyes swept over the many females who were gathered around her looking at him, knowing her full well her answer. "I'd just like you to meet some of these fine women who waited here to meet you." The smell of a trap burned at his nostrils. "Well sorry to disappoint them but I could really give a shit." Adam smiled wickedly at their shocked faces and pulled away from his sister, continuing on the hunt.

**5/Delacova**

Adele studied herself in the full-length mirror in her room, almost unsure if the person staring back was in fact herself. Uneasy, she lifted her hands and hesitantly ran them from the sides of her breasts down her sides and finally resting on her hips. Her waist was slender, the adolescent body a little awkward, she had to admit to herself. She analyzed the dress that now adorned her body, completely breath taken. Even if she didn't deserve compliments, the dress certainly did. It was absolutely exquisite.

The skirt of the dress was made of heavy white satin material that had an odd, opaly look to it. It changed colors ever so slightly, green, purple, or pink tint depending on how it moved. Embroidered all over it, were silver feather designs. The waist and corset part though seemingly stiff was actually quite comfortable, and,the base color the same as the skirt. Intricate patterns drawn with shimmery silver covered the corset, as with the skirt. The corset bottom was lined with jet black gems in a "V" curve that ended in an exquisite sapphire gem, as were the neckline that had what she suspected actual swan feathers, going all the way up to the straps of the dress and ending in a sapphire gem on each shoulder. The stones continued down the straps and around top of the dress and going down her back and ending in an even longer "V" curve and once again ending in that breathtaking blue jewel.

On her neck, hung a silver necklace and from it her Opal Jewel hung in the same familiar place as always. It was like having a friend by your side in a sea of strangers. Black silk ribbons had been wrapped around her wrists and lower arms with detailed care. She wore her other Opal jewel on her middle finger, inset in a sweeping sort of design made from silver. But the best part of the dress were the real feathered wings that sprouted from the back of the gown. The pure white feathers held a slightly opalescent tinge just like the dress itself, and each seemed to be outlined in silver, though she couldn't quite figure out how. Sprinkled in among those wings were little sapphire gems as well as jet black ones._ And they were huge!_She thought as she stared at them, turning sideways to get a better view of the gigantic wings. They must have been at least four or five feet long. She silently thanked her mother for the particular spell she had taught her to keep the wings supported and seemingly weightless to her.

Feeling pleased and just a bit self-conscious, Adele stepped towards her vanity and looked at the pair of eyes that looked back. They were eyes blue eyes, not really dark or light. The eyes went very well with her fair skin, a common thing among her people, who resided in the forests. She brought a hand up and gathered her hair to the side of her head and brought it to her chest to inspect it. It was incredibly long, and went just past her buttocks when she let it free. The coloring was a strawberry blonde, except for some blonde on the top of her head and whispers of it throughout. Adele sighed and with a flick of her hand, brushed her hair back and regarded herself solemnly. A pair of hands that were not her own skillfully began to wrap her hair on her head, putting the Darkness only knew how many pins and other bobs in it, curling and shaping it until it was all gathered on her head in a tasteful design. A wisp of her bangs curled down next to her face on one side, and for the finishing touch, they added pure black and blue jewels and just a few smaller white feathers into the mix. The girl nervously turned towards the mirror and gasped in surprise at the sight of herself.

She gawked at the strange girl in the mirror for a moment before thanking the ladies and stood, accepting the mask that held a swan's head and a small golden crown on it before leaving her room. Adele headed down the steps and out the door to the carriage, her dainty white shoes clicking on the steps as she went. With a relieved sigh, she settled herself into the carriage and tried to ignore the three gawking people that now stared at her with jaws dropped. As her face heated, Adele smiled hesitantly at her friends and family. This was sure going to be an interesting night.

**6/Delacova**

Sitting in the drawing room of her family's large but still stately house, Roxana played with the dark folds of her dress nervously as she waited for the Ashlyns to arrive in their coach to take her to the ball. Ah yes, the ball. The one that made her nervous without knowing why, with all the things surrounding the ball and all the wrongness that seemed to all lead back to it. It wasn't really anything that was obvious on the surface, like a whiff of something vile that when actually paid attention to, was never to be found. It made her nervous and edgy on some instinctive level she couldn't quite figure out. Realizing that she was going to fray her dress to ribbons, Roxana sighed and with effort, placed her hands flat on her dress, willing them not to move. She didn't like how all the young Queens in Tirrador had been politely but firmly requested to come. Not invited, requested. Who requested a Queen? It wasn't just Queens either, Warlord Princes, Black Widows, and the Darker-Jeweled Blood were also "asked" to attend. "In celebration of changing times," was the written reason on the invitation. It made sense, in a few years Adele would finish her formal training and become a Queen. In all likelihood, Adele would rule Tirrador. Many of the Blood in power were stepping down to the younger generation. If one looked at it rationally, it all made sense it just...felt wrong somehow.

And Chris felt the same way, she and Adele's close friend from childhood. And the fact that he was a protective, extremely aggressive Warlord Prince who was in the middle of his court training made a world of difference to her. The fact that he too, was Adele's longstanding friend and cared for her deeply, only reinforced her worries and kept her from pushing them aside as "nothing big." She had always been the careful type, always testing the waters before she jumped headfirst in, so before it had been easy to push aside her gut feelings, but lately she had learned that her gut feelings were seldom wrong. The thought made her feel anxious. Strange whispers, so many people doubting and beginning to jump at shadows, fear growing over nothing and everything. In the secluded wooded Territory of Tirrador, people didn't used to have to feel anxious or on guard, but then again, a lot of things were changing in Terrielle. And _all _of it had to do with Dorothea and Hayll. In the past, Tirrador had mostly kept to itself, being partly enclosed by mountains and a more northern Territory. In fact, Tirrador actively made it a point to stay out of Terrellian affairs for the most part. It was what had kept them safe for so long.

A footman rushed into the parlor and bowed to her before speaking. "Lady, they have arrived." Her eyes were narrowed in a thoughtful expression as he spoke, but she nodded in acknowledgement and smoothed out the creases in her dress, smoothed her thoughts. She stood and her long gown pooled about her feet.

The heavy black fabric began at her shoulders and exposed a plentiful dollop of her chest, coming down her arms and ending in long, regal sleeves. Over the lovely black dress, she wore an emerald green piece that had short sleeves and exposed the front of her dress, covering the sides and back. The green glistened and seemed to be covered with a layer of silver when she turned. Over the dress, there was an intricate decoration of silver that came off her waist and twisted around her dress. She flicked one medium-length lock of milk chocolate brown hair over her shoulder and accepted the black and deep green-colored mask that the footman handed her. It was shaped so that it rose around the eyes in pointed elegantly and Roxana held it up to her face so that one could only view her soft blue eyes as she headed out the door towards the carriage.

She would be on guard tonight, silently watching out for Adele, who was far too trusting for her own good. Whatever happened, she would be there for her. They all would be. There was nothing any of them could do now but watch and hope nothing happened.

_Chapter 2 Preview:_

_The second she saw the black-donned male heading in their direction Adele felt her heart leap up in her throat and grab onto her uvula for dear life. She swallowed in a feeble attempt to get it back down into her chest. No luck. She'd known this would happen, had felt the young male watching her from the moment her announcement was made. Now it was just a question of what would happen once Chris came face to face with him, and if Chris unleashed his vicious temper on the poor man. _


	2. Chapter 2

As promised, for your viewing (and REviewing) pleasure, here is Chapter 2 of Innocence of a Queen. I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed or added my story to their alerts or favorites. It really warms my heart and all that. I LOOOOVE commentary and I like seeing your reaction to my work, as an author, that is the most valuable thing I can get. A special thanks to my beta reader, The Diamond Sorceress.

On another note, please check out my pronounciation guide on my profile for the proper way to say my characters names. Keep in mind most of the names from Tirrador were influenced by French and should be spoken accordingly.

**~Chapter 2~**

**1/Delacova**

After picking Chris and his younger brother Jeremy up, the coach now carrying Taylor, Josephine, Adele, and Delphine Ashlyn, as well as Roxana Lavelle, headed for the Lathan Estate to join the party. Now that they were finally pulling up into the large drive, Adele felt her insides turning into jelly. She glanced at Chris, who sat beside her looking straight ahead, his face set in a somber (or possibly dangerous) bored expression. He turned to look at her, and his intense brown eyes narrowed as he took in her nervous jitters.

"Maybe we should just go back home..." she suggested lamely. She turned her eyes south to stare at her feet, but not before she caught a glimpse of Chris' wicked grin beginning to form.

"Scared?" he teased at the same moment Roxana poked her head out from behind his shoulder to look at Adele.

A quick glance at them and she, too, broke into a wide grin, though hers was slightly more reassuring than Chris'. Slightly. At least Adele could be sure that _Roxana_ wouldn't drag her out of the carriage balking, in one piece or not. She stole another look at her friends' faces. Almost sure. Adele panted with dread, looking out the carriage window.

"Come on, it'll be fine. Most of the people are already inside, so you won't be gawked at. Don't worry," Roxana said as Chris looked at her, his face attempting stoic but his eyes laughing.

"But because of her importance in the village, not to mention the Territory, and her status, they will be announcing her name when she arrives," he pointed out, his face solemn. Adele wanted to knock his teeth out.

"And let's not forget that since everyone will already be inside when they announce you, _everyone_ will look," Delphine piped in cheerfully.

"Yes, well..."

"_And,_ due to your status, everyone will want to greet you after you are announced," Jeremy added.

Roxana frowned." Ah, yes. I, umm, forgot about all that." She then tried to throw her friend a reassuring but nervous smile at Adele, who wondered if the jelly that now turned around in her stomach could actually get any thinner. "Well, we're here for you, Adele," she continued as Chris winked at her.

Taylor and Josephine grinned at her from across the carriage. _They knew all along what I was getting in to_, she thought sulkily. _My own parents didn't even warn me._ "...All of us," her mother said soothingly, reaching out to pat her daughter's hand.

"Every step of the way," Taylor finished. Giving them all a nervous-but-thankful smile as the coach stopped, Adele took a deep breath, turned, and stepped out into the fading light.

**2/Delacova**

As he continued through the sea of guests, Adam caught the psychic scent again—this time it was very close. He stopped suddenly, seeking the source with his eyes. Someone conversing a short ways away caught his attention. Green eyes narrowed, he slowly strode up behind a man in a charcoal grey-and-black suit with a fur-trimmed jacket. The man wore a canine mask with a slightly elongated snout and matching grey fur. He was the swift and deadly hunter of the night, the wolf. Adam smiled darkly as he approached his prey and threw an arm around his neck, squeezing hard and grinning savagely. A hand grabbed Adam's right arm and pulled.

"Adam..." The deep voice was filled with the tolerant amusement of an older brother for his impudent sibling.

"It's been a while since I've seen you, Khevin Tannsley." Adam said solemnly.

It had been a very long time—a little too long, to be exact. The two had been best friends ever since Adam was five and Khevin was nine, when Khevin and his father had come from a mysterious village on the borders of Tirrador to live in Delacova. Adam had had no one before Khevin had come along and taken the young boy under his wing. He had always looked out for Adam, played with him, taught him everything he himself was being taught, from fighting and Craft to the Blood laws and their code of honor. They had scraped and fought, danced and played, and Khevin had been the older, protective sibling and guide Adam had never had. He'd taught Adam everything he knew.

But then when he was twelve and Khevin had turned sixteen, Khevin had had to leave for the training that was tradition among his people, and in order to fulfill it, he had to return to Tawnar. He had told Adam something bad was happening, but wouldn't say what—_couldn't _say what. And so, with a haunted look in his eyes and a troubled heart, Khevin and his father had returned to their mysterious village and left Adam confused, without a protector, and with a bleeding heart.

Five years. He had gone and left Adam for five years, and in that time Adam had changed into a cold, unfeeling person who shut everyone else out in order to protect himself. He hadn't understood at first the warning Khevin had given him just before he had left, but now he was beginning to, and he knew it wasn't just about simpering aristo women trying to push themselves on him. Whatever was coming was deeper and more deadly that just that. With no one else to turn to and threats coming in from all sides, the cheerful boy he had become under Khevin's guiding influence had hardened into a vicious, defensive youth.

Adam knew that without the training Khevin had instilled in him, he would have become a very different person in those five years. He might not have fought against Aveline that hard, might have given in to their demands in order to "serve." But Khevin had taught him that to serve was not as important as to protect and cherish.

Now Khevin was back, his training finally completed. Adam wondered what that meant, why he had returned now. Still, it had been so long, best to stick with the basics and work your way down. Or even better yet, leave it for later and enjoy time with his friend. Khevin smirked as Adam dropped his arms and gracefully stepped in front of him.

"You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you, squirt." His smirk widened into a grin as Adam stared daggers at him.

"That's what happens when you don't see someone for five years," Adam said, snarling at the nickname Khevin had given him a long time ago. A glitter of green on his friend's caught Adam's attention, tossing his irritation to the wind. A Green Jewel set into an odd tribal design hung from Khevin's neck on a short silver chain. Adam's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "You made the Offering already?" he asked softly.

Khevin just smiled at him. "Just after I reached my majority." Adam did a few quick calculations. _So a year ago now._ "Now you can't make fun of me for being weaker than you."

There was a hint of pride and accomplishment in his voice, though his eyes glittered with amusement and love. Adam scowled at him. Khevin had always been very open with his feelings, not bothering to be shy about how he felt about people, or being embarrassed to say he loved Adam, which he did often. Not that he felt _that_ way about him, but still, he was much more open than anyone Adam had ever met. Khevin's father was the same way; maybe that was just how the people from Tawnar were.

"Oh, but in a few years things will balance themselves out," Adam said arrogantly. "Remember I haven't made the Offering yet." He burst into laughter as Khevin's smirk vanished quickly.

"Don't worry, you still have three years to stay equal with me." He grinned at his Brother underneath the wolf's mask.

"It's time we caught up. I have plenty to tell you about what I've done these last five years."

Khevin slung his right arm over Adam's left shoulder and started to steer him to the front of the room where the guests were arriving. _You may have a lot to tell me, but I don't have much to tell you,_ Adam thought bitterly as the Green-jeweled Warlord began to talk about the hunts he had been on with his father and how proud his village was of him for giving them the strength of the Green.

**3/Delacova**

Adele Ashlyn and her entourage walked into the room and trumpets sounded for silence. A man whom she strongly suspected was the leader of this conjumblement stepped forward.

"Prince Christopher Deveraux." Chris stepped forward and bowed formally, his face showing no emotion, met with a smattering of applause. "Lord Jeremy Deveraux." Jeremy stepped forward with a boyish grin and bowed low. "Taylor and Josephine Ashlyn." They, too, stepped forward. Her father was greeted with warm welcome, as many of the partygoers served in Lady Claude's court as well. "Lady Delphine Ashlyn."

With a mocking grin, Delphine curtsied as was polite, but Adele caught her sister winking at her then wrinkling her nose and sticking the tip of her tongue out as she came back up. Adele had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud and almost missed her own introduction. "…and Lady Adele Ashlyn." Adele stepped forward and curtsied, bowing her head low. Approving applause met her arrival, as well as voices calling her name with praises, as she felt her heart jump into her throat. A slight flush colored her cheeks as she rose and dropped her skirt.

With a dazzling smile, she waved at the crowd before turning and joining her company, falling into step beside Chris. Her escort offered his arm, as was customary, to lead her down the steps. He was dressed as a white tiger, with a white pinstripe suit complete with coattails that looked very complimentary on his sleek figure. He wore a with white fur mask, emblazoned with black stripes. The mask ended just above his mouth with gleaming white fangs that curved over and slightly on top of his mouth. As a Warlord Prince, every inch of him issued a silent challenge to any other males. A tiger? Adele didn't bother to suppress a chuckle as she took his arm, letting him lead her down the steps and to the party below. _It suits him well, almost too well_.

They reached the bottom of the steps just a fraction of a second before they were bombarded by people, all wishing Adele well and wanting to know how she'd been, how old she was now, if her court training had been going well, the list went on and on. Adele released Chris' arm and courteously answered all of their questions. Chris and Roxana stepped forward to flank her, Chris in close attendance, warily watching the room, and Roxana slightly to the side, the rest of the family a little ways away answering questions of their own. Adele glanced over and noted the dazzled gleam in her mother's eyes and smiled. It was about time her mother got some acknowledgement. Pleased with how their arrival had gone, Adele turned her attention to the gathering crowd around her.

In the middle of the whirlwind of conversation, Adele felt a tug on her skirt. She fought back a flicker of irritation. With a dress like hers, it would be easy to step on her skirt without noticing. Feeling it again, Adele looked down, hoping to find the betraying foot whose occupant was about to get a piece of her mind...and found herself staring into a pair of wide brown eyes. She blinked, and her anger melted. A girl of about ten years old looked up at her, cute as a button in a formal dress. When she smiled at the little girl, those little brown eyes widened even more.

"Wow, you're really pretty, Lady."

"Thank you. What is your name?"

The girl let go of her dress and rocked on her heels. "Ivy Lathan. I'm nine!" Ivy smiled up at Adele. "Are you a swan?"

Adele nodded. "Looks that way."

Ivy giggled and studied Adele. "You should dance with my brother, Addy." Probably some silly little aristo boy. Adele swallowed her laughter and smiled brightly at Ivy. "Sure, Ivy."

The girl's face brightened "'kay," she said before she ran off, weaving her way through the crowd as only a child could do. She watched her go with a warm smile. _ Thank you for the break, Ivy Lathan._ She was pulled back into the buzz of the waiting people after her momentary break, wondering what sort of person this "Addy" was.

(o)

Delphine glanced over at her sister, noting the harried way she now spoke, her body language telling her Adele was desperately trying to escape from the conversation, as well she should be after nearly an hour of amusing these boring, stiff aristos. Unfourtunately, as a young Queen under scrutinized watch, especially at a formal gathering like this, she couldn't be rude and just leave the conversation. No matter, Delphine had lots of experience when it came to these things. _She_ wasn't worried about bruising anyone's delicate sensibilities, not that she even cared what they thought. With a wicked smile blooming, Delphine strode over to her sister, the wispy folds of the her violet skirt swishing around her legs.

The skirt of her dress was made of many layers of purple silk material. The top layer had eight long spider legs made of black velvet that ran down the length of the skirt to the floor. When Delphine walked, those spider legs wiggled, giving the illusion that she actually _had_ spider legs.

Pleased with this thought, she strode up to her sister and grabbed her by the arm, whisking a stunned Adele away from the conversation. Delphine turned her head to look over her shoulder and grinned at the elder witch Adele had been talking with from under her black velvet mask. "Lady Ashlyn needs a little refreshment break."

Chris, Roxana, and Jeremy followed them, looking only slightly confused. When they reached the bar, Delphine released Adele's arm and gave her a sharp-toothed grin. Adele leaned on the bar and offered Delphine a weak smile as the others joined them.

"I guess I'm just not used to this stuff yet." She sounded dazed. Smiling in amused sympathy, Chris stepped forward to take her arm and steady her.

Delphine snorted. "Anyone who can get used to that has some serious mental issues."

She shuddered dramatically, earning a small smile from Adele. As she looked over Delphine's shoulder, Adele's eyebrows suddenly furrowed, then raised in surprise, her expression shifting into diplomatic Queen as she straightened up to welcome someone. Interested, Delphine turned her head to see a young woman who looked about Adele's age and a slightly older male walking over to them.

Delphine's eyes widened as she took in the woman. She had the palest, smoothest skin Delphine had ever seen—it was almost transparent. As she walked, her skin seemed to glow in an eerie way, but that wasn't what had gotten the Widow's attention in the first place: the woman had long, silky, _green_ hair that went a little past her buttocks. _Green! _ Delphine took a steadying breath as the two youths walked over to them, sent out a curious psychic tendril...and would have fallen if she hadn't been holding onto the bar. Hells fire, that woman was a Queen and a Healer! Unnerved, Delphine just stood there like a stick. Adele, however, had collected herself.

A surge of pride welled in her as she watched her sister straighten out and smile invitingly at the odd woman. "Sister," she said as she held her hands out, palms down in formal greeting. The woman smiled in return. Funny how one minute you could think someone was unnerving, and the next all you could do was gawk at her. She was lovely and gave Adele the most charming smile as she returned the greeting.

"Sister," she said as she placed her hands under Adele's, palms up. Her eyes—a light green shade—were warm as she looked into Adele's. "I am Christine Amoria, from Delleva." She turned to her escort, adding, "And this is Marius, my friend, also from Delleva."

"A pleasure to meet you all," he said as he bowed to them.

Adele gave Marius a slight bow of her head while the two women dropped their hands. Marius was tall and well built next to Christine's extremely long, sinewy body, with normal coloring, which was somewhat of a surprise to her. He had choppy, slightly long blonde hair swept back and spiked towards the back of his head. Two locks hung to frame his friendly-looking face.

"I am Adele Ashlyn, and I am from Delacova," she said, then turned to her companions and, with a sweep of her arm, introduced them all in turn.

Christine's smile lit up her face. "How lovely it is to meet you all. Now that we're past introductions, we can really talk." She grinned at Adele, who returned the smile.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to ask," Adele said, shaking her head in wonder, "where do you get your lovely coloring?" Delphine listened intently, wanting to hear the answer just as badly. It was then that she the Purple Dusk Jewel that hung from Christine's neck. She should have noticed it earlier, since it was the only thing on her body that wasn't either green or white. Delphine stared at her. _She's almost as powerful as Adele, and a Queen and Healer as well. Who is she?_

Christine wore a long, slim dress made of the silkiest white material that Delphine had ever seen. Her laugh rang out, and several people turned to see who had made the noise, then stared at its source helplessly.

"It's quite alright, I know I must look startling. I'm not originally from Delleva." Delphine could have guessed that, since she had been to the capital city of Tirrador enough times and never seen anyone who looked like Christine. "I'm actually from a small village near the Southern border of Tirrador called Tazian. It was deep in the forests, and our people were wild, much different from yours." She sighed, and Delphine could tell her thoughts were drifting back to her birthplace. "You see, in order to hunt, we became one with the forest, and over time…well our connection to the forest became more than symbolic." She took a lock of her deep green hair between her fingers and laughed softly. "Or so my Grandmother tells me often enough. Tazian exists no more, I've long since moved away. I don't really remember it at all; my home is Delleva."

Adele, just like Delphine, had listened attentively, eager to hear about this mysterious girl. "That's…simply fascinating," Adele gasped, and Delphine knew she was being truthful.

At that moment, a high, bouncing court song sprang to life, and Christine laughed in delight, recognizing it. "Oh, I love this song!" She turned the group, her eyes sweeping over all of them. "Will you join us?"

"We'd love to!" Adele said, jumping up, and they all weaved their way individually to the dance floor; since it was a dance with constantly changing partners. Delphine enjoyed herself as the seven of them whirled around the dance floor. Faces blurred in front of her, appearing and disappearing faster than she could identify them. Once she caught sight of Chris' intense brown eyes; another time she and Adele touched hands briefly, her sister giving her a smile before moving on. She sank into the mood of the dance, letting it soothe her, and before she knew it several dances had passed before they pulled themselves away, panting for breath.

Christine laughed and waved goodbye, calling, "Let's do this again sometime," as she headed in the opposite direction, Marius gave them a friendly grin before turning and following her.

Adele collapsed against the bar once again, laughing gaily, her face flushed. "Oooh that was such fun!"

That smile, however, grew weaker and faded in uncertainty as her attention turned to something else. Puzzled by her sister's behavior, Delphine turned to see a lovely witch gliding towards them, a kind smile on her face. She instantly bristled at the sight of the woman, even though the she had done nothing outwardly wrong. Something about her psychic scent... something that she couldn't put her finger on felt very wrong. Apparently everyone else in the group felt it, too, because they all stiffened as the woman approached.

Whoever she was, she was gorgeous, with ink-black hair swept up in a tasteful style, her skin a light olive color that looked silky to the touch. She wore a deep black-and-blue dress lined with dark raven feathers, and a welcoming expression adorned her beautiful face. Delphine felt like raking her nails over that lovely face. She could feel Chris' barely-restrained rage at having this woman so close to Adele. Standing next to him, she could feel his muscles bulging and quivering with his effort to regain control of himself. His nerves scraped against her own, igniting her temper. Delphine shifted position so she backed Adele's left side, Chris stepping behind and to the right of her sister, to protect her other side. The woman walked up uncomfortably close and smiled at them all.

"Sisters," she said, inclining her head to include all three females before turning to Chris. "Prince." Then to Jeremy, "Warlord." They all returned the barest of nods. Not daunted by their less-than-warm greeting, the witch smiled and turned to Adele. "I was so excited when I heard you were coming, Lady Adele, I've heard so much about you. And to meet you in person..." She paused, breathless, before speaking again. With effort, Delphine swallowed a low growl building in the back of her throat. The witch had started a conversation without even giving her name, although it was obvious that she knew theirs. Even _she_ knew enough courtesy to know such behavior was extremely rude. "Well, you can only imagine how thrilled I am." Adele flushed and stepped forward to give the woman a proper greeting.

"I'm flattered that I have your support, Sister. I am, however, embarrassed that I know not your name and you know mine." The woman laughed and sent Delphine's spine skittering before extending her hand towards Adele's. Delphine noted the Opal-Jeweled ring on the woman's finger.

"Aveline Lathan," she replied as Adele's eyes lit up, taking the woman's hand.

"Oh, so you're Aveline! It's so very nice to meet you. Your family really has a lovely estate." Aveline glanced around at the room, her expression clearly showing that she did not agree.

_What, your families' expensive-but not quite priceless-mansion isn't good enough for your overzealous tastes, bitch?_

Now certain that if she had to take in any more of this witch's fake speeches she would crack a tooth, Delphine turned to Adele. "I think I'll go water some bushes; they look like they need it," she said, not caring if Aveline took offense to the statement or not. She turned and walked speedily in the opposite direction. She was so distracted by her prickly temper that she nearly ran into a girl about her own age. _She looks important,_ Delphine idly thought as she took in the girl sputtering and backing away from her. She had warm, olive-colored skin and rich chocolate brown hair that fell down her back. Dark brown eyes that held a fierce temper and pride looked up into Delphine's eyes at the same moment she caught the girl's psychic scent. Hells fire, _another_ young Queen! And a strong one, she registered as she watched the girl flick a stray lock of hair out of the way to reveal a Purple Dusk Jewel around her neck. She wore a lavish gold-and-white dress that complemented her darker coloring.

"Excuse me, _Sister_, but I was just on my way to meet Lady Ashlyn," She began in a voice that was just courteous enough not to be rude. Delphine smiled. Two could play at that game.

"And you've found her," Delphine interrupted with a mocking grin as she held up her hands slightly. Oh, she knew the girl had been hoping to meet Adele, but Delphine would be damned before this upstart witch would push her, an Apprentice to the Hourglass Coven, out of the way. Not only that, Delphine wanted to make it clear she had a important claim to Adele, and therefore could deny anyone the right to meet her. A quick glance told her Adele, Roxana, and Jeremy were still talking with that…_woman_, and only Chris had noticed her snarling discussion with the girl. He gave her a questioning look, but she returned the minutest of head shakes tell him his presence wasn't required.

The girl glared at her, narrowing her eyes and taking her in for the first time. "So you're her sister, then?" Her gaze followed Delphine's to rest on the group. Her lips curled into a snarl and, she turned back to Delphine, giving her a spiky smile. "Couldn't stand being around that lying bitch, could you, then? Yes, I thought as much." Delphine felt her already raw temper rising. How dare she! She and her sister might have their moments, but they got along for the most part. For this..._girl_ to assume that she couldn't stand her own sister's presence...

"And just whom are we talking about here, _Lady_?" Delphine said the last with mocking sweetness, throwing the formal title at her. Jacqueline narrowed her eyes, not missing the jab.

"_Lady_ Aveline Lathan. She talks through her teeth about 'helping Tirrador' and 'what's in the best interest of the Territory,' but she doesn't fool as many people as she thinks. We know her real intentions."

Instantly, the Widow's temper cooled and she gave the Queen a lazy grin. "Well I'm glad we're on the same page then, Sister," she said, marking them as equals instead of acknowledging the girl's higher caste.

"Jacqueline," She responded, holding out her hands in formal greeting, "Jacqueline Dubois."

Delphine returned the gesture, letting her long nails barely scrape at Jacqueline's wrists, reminding her that they were of equal Jewel rank, and that even though Jacqueline was a Queen, a Black Widow wasn't a witch to be trifled with.

"Delphine Ashlyn," she said before dropping her hands and her sides and turning to lead Jacqueline over to Adele. "So shall we make the Lady's acquaintance?"

(o)

Roxana raised one eyebrow daintily as Delphine came sweeping into their presence, looking very much like a pleased spider who had caught interesting prey, with a young girl in tow. Her other eyebrow shot up as she got a whiff of the girl's psychic scent. Another Queen! Her eyes scanned the group for their reaction. Adele looked harried and stressed from talking to Aveline for so long, Chris looked angry at Adele being browbeat, Jeremy's eyes lit with dark interest, and Aveline…well, she didn't look too pleased.

"Well, I'll just let you get cozy then," the woman said smoothly, grinning with what Roxana thought was supposed to be warmth. "Enjoy the party," she added before walking away. Roxana sighed gustily.

"Well, now that that's over with." She was rewarded with a quick, tentative smile from Adele that disappeared just as quickly as she turned to the young girl. Young Queen, she reminded herself.

Adele held her hands out in formal greeting. "How lovely to finally meet you, Lady Dubois." Roxana's eyebrows lifted again in surprise. Adele had been doing her homework. The girl smiled in pleasure and returned the greeting.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Lady Ashlyn." She had a slightly different accent from their own, and Roxana soon learned that Jacqueline Dubois was from the Dandornna Province in the North of Tirrador. They were all introduced and Jacqueline politely greeted them all, but when Adele attempted to introduce Delphine to her, the girl said, "Yes we've already been...familiarized," a small grin tugging at her lips.

The conversation turned informal quickly after the greetings, and Roxana discovered that Jacqueline had already met Christine and Marius. Suddenly, her head began to spin as something that should have caught hold long ago sank in: the reason why Aveline—she was sure that woman had been behind the ball and those politely demanding invitations—had invited all these strong witches and Blood males to the ball tonight. She was sizing up the competition, deciding who was strongest in the Territory, but one thing still didn't make sense: Aveline was not a Queen. Her behavior wouldn't be too surprising if she was.

Roxana had heard about ambitious young Queens who sometimes got power hungry, and instead of earning the right to rule, got it into their heads to take out the competition instead. But Aveline was not a Queen, and the Darker-jeweled Blood in Tirrador would never choose her as the Territory leader, let alone a Province or District. For what purpose was this scheme? What end was she trying to accomplish? Why? Roxana scanned the crowd at the assembly of so many strong Blood and wondered how many of them had been labeled as a threat. Knowing she knew, and had met a few of them tonight, fear gathered in a tight ball in her stomach. She and Chris needed to talk—not tonight, but soon.

**4/Delacova**

Adam Lathan sat quietly at the bar, sipping his second glass of red wine thinking about the past hour. His eyes held a faraway, brooding look that had stopped Khevin's question the moment he saw them. He had watched his friend's mouth shut with a snap as an equally thoughtful look settled on his calm features.

Something had changed drastically: if only he could figure out what. Adam decided to start with what he knew first. He_ knew_ it had something to do with that young woman, the young Queen, Adele. He mentally shivered in pleasure as he thought of her name. A wild stranger inside him purred with hunger. The moment she had been announced, all other things paled in comparison to her. Maybe it was because she was an Opal-jeweled Queen, maybe it was just her looks. His mouth watered as he remembered her strawberry blonde hair and that grandiose dress she floated about in. And those _eyes_. No, beautiful as she was, it wasn't just physical. Something about her psychic scent made his blood sing, made him want to declare himself right then and there, made him want to whisk her away from them all and claim her as his own as she had claimed him. The wild stranger had roared in approval of this notion.

The rational side of his brain—a portion that was getting smaller and smaller by the minute—screamed at him that he was being an idiot and a fool, but something deep inside him had come broiling to the surface as he had watched her. It was a deep calling that he had no power to deny, the wild stranger. Adam had been pondering this new occurence in himself—and the completely nonsensical urges that went with it—when he had caught sight of the man in the pinstripe suit, the other Warlord Prince. What was his name again? Adam mentally chided himself for not studying his enemy more thoroughly. And he _was_ an enemy. The man had just finished dancing and was following Adele back to a group of people. The fool was grinning with pleasure, and slightly breathless from the dance, when his eyes caught Adam's. Their eyes met, held. Brown and green. Green and Green. Like responded to like. When Adam saw the Warlord Prince change from carefree to issuing him a silent challenge, saw his gait change to a smooth glide, he realized what he had not before: as he slowly rose to the killing edge, Adam understood. He was a Warlord Prince, and Adele was a strong, young Queen, the first one he had ever met.

Warlord Princes craved a bond with a Blood female, and more so with a Queen. It was natural for him to react in a possessive way to her presence, it was what they were. Adele wore the Blood Opal, a darker-jewel, and darker-jeweled Warlord Princes craved a bond with a darker-jeweled female. He had learned all this in his training, or what he had been taught so far, and it still didn't prepare him for it. Their eyes stayed connected until Adam felt a hand on his shoulder. He broke eye contact with one enemy to deal with another.

Adam turned his head to look at Khevin, who looked almost white despite his dark skin. The scent of his dearest friend infuriated Adam, and the wild stranger inside him howled for blood.

"What's wrong with you?" Khevin's voice sounded worried as his hazel eyes scanned Adam's face.

The Darkness knew what was looking up at Khevin from within those eyes. Green against Green. Adam mentally studied his adversary. But a Warlord Prince wasn't inhibited by useless emotions like pity or mercy when he rode the killing edge; It was obvious who would be the victor, even when their jewel rank was equal. Khevin had felt him descending to gather strength, had probably felt him rise to the killing edge. He had to back away from it now, before something bad happened. Adam closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Slowly, step by step, he moved away from the killing edge.

After a moment or two, Adam shook his head and gave his friend a careless grin. "Nothing," he said lightly, hoping to show his friend that his mood had passed. Well, not all of it; he was still settled in the deep calm of his own inner web, the stranger still calculating quietly. Khevin watched his face warily for a few seconds before smiling easily. He was willing to pretend that nothing had just happened and move on, and Adam felt a rush of gratitude towards his friend and mentor.

"Mhm. Well as soon as you're done daydreaming, you should go introduce yourself to that Lady Ashlyn. Your sister's already made her acquaintance, and you should show her that not everyone in the Lathan family are walking pieces of-"

"Yeah, sure, I'll go." His terse interruption cut off Khevin's comment. "I'll be back soon, just wait here," he said as he slid off the barstool, drawing the mask that rested atop his head over his face to finish the look. He straightened up and put on his black suit jacket, pleased at how it felt like he was donning the skin of the beast. Right now he had never felt more like a predator of the night, with his blood singing in his veins. Hands in his pockets, he glided over to the group and stopped in their midst.

"Lady Ashlyn." His eyes swept through the group, nodding his head at the two young witches who watched him warily. "Ladies." He looked at the lesser threat of the two males. Younger than he and the other Warlord Prince, something about the two felt similar, looked similar. Brothers, then. Keeping this in mind, he turned, and his eyes finally came to a rest on the other. He was staring back at Adam with such open hatred that he felt himself gliding back down the killing edge again. "Prince." With effort, he backed away from the killing edge and turned to look at Adele.

"Though I'm sure you've had more than enough greetings tonight, I'd like to have the pleasure of welcoming you to the Lathan Estate. I am Adam Lathan." His voice had a purr to it that could be interpreted as malevolence and seductiveness. It was both.

For her part, Adele just stared at him with wide eyes, opened her mouth, and said, "Oh, so _you're_ Addy?"

(o)

The second she saw the black-donned male heading in their direction Adele felt her heart leap up in her throat and grab onto her uvula for dear life. She swallowed in a feeble attempt to get it back down into her chest. No luck. She'd known this would happen, had felt the young male watching her from the moment her announcement was made. Now it was just a question of what would happen once Chris came face to face with him, and if Chris unleashed his vicious temper on the poor man.

Then she caught it, a whiff of the stranger's psychic scent. Adele almost staggered back with surprise. Hell's fire, a Warlord Prince! No wonder Chris had been in painfully stiff attendance all night, had watched the guests with an edginess that she couldn't comprehend. He had known the other was here probably the moment they walked through the doors. This changed everything. She chided herself for not checking before he was calmly gliding towards them, and an outright fight.

Every natural instinct as a woman screamed at her to get the hell out of there, but court training and the Queen in her rooted her to the spot as she watched the stranger approach with a grace that matched the sleek panther that he took after for the night. Only she suspected it wasn't just for tonight. Adele suppressed a whimper, they were so similar. He approached, hands in his pockets, the black fur mask ending in pearly white, gleaming fangs in place over his face. As he got closer, Adele could taste the strain in him, as if he were keeping something tightly leashed, and suddenly she knew. Her eyes flickered over to Chris, who had straightened up, and there was the same strained feeling. Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes for a moment, centering herself. Without opening them, she reached up and brushed a hand against Chris' shoulder.

*Calm yourself, Prince,* she said on a psycic thread, mind to mind. It was a command from a Queen. She felt him stiffen, then relax. Slightly. She sighed and turned to face the stranger. Well, at least it would keep them from ripping each other apart as soon as he got close.

The young man walked right up to them and stopped abruptly. Surprised by his blatant approach, Adele almost missed his greeting. She gave him the polite, formal nod given when a Queen addressed a Warlord Prince. "Prince." His eyes passed over them in turn until they rested on Chris. Their eyes met for a moment, and Adele silently wondered if there would be any stopping them should things go bad. All thoughts of overly-aggressive Warlord Princes fled her mind the moment she heard his name, however.

"I am Adam Lathan."

Adele froze, and took him in again. _Lathan. _Realization hit her like a runaway _was the one brother who Ivy was talking about? _Before she could really think about it, she opened her mouth and blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"Oh, so _you're_ Addy?"

They all stared at her like she had lost her mind.

Perhaps she had. Adele cleared her throat and prayed to the Darkness that her explination would suffice. "I, ah, had the pleasure of meeting a young Lady Lathan—" She wondered why his eyes blazed with fury for a moment. "—and she said that I should dance with her brother, whom she called Addy, I believe." She smiled sheepishly and made a wide sweeping motion towards the dance floor. "We were just thinking of heading to the dance floor again. Would you like to accompany us?"

Not missing a beat, Chris stepped forward and possessively wrapped an arm around her waist, his eyes boring into the Prince's, as if daring him to challenge his claim. She noted the dark look he gave Chris in return and sighed internally, knowing that even though he had the prior claim to her, Chris was still acting extremely rude. Before anyone could even breathe, Roxana stepped forward and extended her hand to Prince Lathan. "I would be honored if you would be my dancing partner, Prince." She gave him a winning smile that could melt anyone and Adele could have kissed her.

Prince Lathan turned his attention to Roxana, and he placed his hand very gently in hers, giving her a tight smile in return. "I'd be delighted, Lady," he said in an alluring tone that made Adele's throat throb.

Jeremy turned to Delphine, grinning playfully. He jerked his head towards the dance floor. "You wanna?"

"Be delighted." She grabbed his hand and practically dragged Jeremy to the dance floor.

Adele sighed with relief and allowed Chris to escort her. As the song began, she turned to face him, giving him a glare that could rend flesh from bone. He winced but didn't look away. His face was full of anger and protective fury as he held her firmly against him. She sighed and grinned, exasperated. A moment later the dancers sprang to life as a lively court tune started.

They were like windup dolls that had all been set to start at the same exact time. The dancers moved in graceful little circles, twisting and turning around and through one another, only they hadn't taken into account a girl wearing a gigantic pair of wings. It was almost amusing, she thought as she watched a pair of dancers twist and almost fall trying to avoid her wings.

Well, it truly would have been if she hadn't have felt the strain in both of the males. She was a Queen; it was her duty to recognize that strain and either help them leash it or solve the problem before they ripped each other and anyone else in the way apart. That was all fine—she could help them with whatever problem they were facing...usually. This time she couldn't, becuase _she_ was the problem. As if that thought wasn't troubling enough, Adele's blue eyes kept meeting the steady gaze of those panther green eyes from under that dark mask as they spun round and round. She was intensely grateful for the cover of her own mask, otherwise she was sure the whole dance floor would see her furious blush, and that would have only upset Chris more.

Why should she feel embarrassed, though? He was a young male her age, whom she had just met. How could Chris object to her meeting any other males? It wasn't like they were an item. Defensive anger flared to life. He was young and attractive, and Chris was just going to have to accept that she was interested in him. That decided, she relaxed a bit, waiting for her chance to dance with this mysterious Warlord Prince.

(o)

After a mind-numbing barrage of songs that Adele didn't even care to count, the dancing finally stopped for a moment, if only to pause between songs. Prince Lathan strode up to them silently. Her partner instantly bristled, but Adele ignored him as the fascinating man approached. Sparing Chris only the barest of glances before he turned his attention onto Adele, he smiled at her and held out his hand. That charming smile sent shivers up her spine, and she involuntarily smiled back.

"May I have this dance, Lady?" he asked courteously, bowing slightly. A little dazed, Adele nodded and stepped forward, reaching her hand out to accept his when she felt Chris' hands clamp around her waist. Hell's fire! She tossed a bruising stare at Chris, who gave her an only slightly less terrifying look.

*He is not your escort Adele! You are not here with him!* he spat out, sounding terse, almost desperate.

*I am a Queen, and as such, it is my duty to provide the males around me with some pleasure.* She felt his blind rage at her words through the link and inwardly winced. Knowing he would have felt that hesitation, she put some bite in her next words. *Besides, I can dance with whom I choose if I like for a few dances, whether he is my escort or not.* Her blue eyes looked straight into Chris'. *I know my place, Prince; you would do well not to forget yours.*

*Yes, Lady,* he said as he released her and stepped back towards Roxana. Though he had yielded, she could still sense the violent urges still pulsing in him.

Adele turned,stepping toward Prince Lathan and accepted his outstretched hand, felt his other hand slide around her waist...and also felt the naked hatred from Chris' eyes boring into them. She gave her partner a nervous smile before the music started again. It was a slow, easy song that kept them moving at a good pace, but also allowed private conversation. "I apologize for my escort's rude behavior, Prince," she said, a little temper still in her voice.

"It is quite all right, Lady." He sounded slightly amused as he gracefully whirled her around the dance floor. "Chances are I would do the same thing, if I had the privelage of being an escort to a Lady such as yourself." Adele blushed at the blatant praise and found that she could not respond. Instead, she let the silence fall over them like a veil.

_He really isn't so bad,_ she thought in his defense as they twirled around the dance floor. On the contrary, Adele felt pleasure flowing out of her whole body as this charming young man led her around the dance floor with skill that spoke of formal training. Despite her own body's pleasure, however, Adele kept being pulled back from her wonderful fantasy by the violent emotions she was picking up from the two males.

Slightly annoyed with both for being so childish, she decided it was time to have this wonderful male's wings clipped a bit as well. Sliding into the nonexistent mask of one of her most terriying Queenly faces, Adele's blue eyes slid up his chest and locked onto his eyes. Her eyes captured his as they danced, clearly telling him to watch his step as well: she would not put up with any more childish games. The Queen watched with satisfaction as she saw a shiver of fear run up his spine in response.

Her eyes held his with that cool mask for only a moment long before she blinked, and it vanished, leaving behind a flustered, embarrassed witch, rather than a cold, raging Queen. Feeling slightly guilty for scolding a male not her own, Adele looked down and composed herself fully. She didn't look at him for a few minutes, just let the easy steps of the dance and the music lessen the tension.

When she finally looked at him again, she found he was still not looking back at her, but in fact in every other possible direction. Biting back a laugh, Adele said nothing but let him lead her, waiting for him to regain enough courage to look at her again. When his eyes drifted towards hers again, she gave him a brilliant smile of reassurance.

Now looking for a safe topic, the girl threw a look over to the Princes' friend, who was now sitting at the bar, watching them circle. A faint smile brushed her lips as she recognized the young girl sitting next to the dark-skinned youth, grinning at the couple. Her eyes found the older boy again. He looked like a decent guy, the kind that would joke at his friend's expense, but still remain loyal when it was all over. "I do believe your friend over there is having a grand time watching us...as is your sister."

Adam—Prince Lathan— followed her gaze and came to rest on his friend, who gave him a not-so-subtle thumbs up. Only one muscle in his lip twitched and betrayed his irritation. Or amusement, she couldn't tell. He chose to ignore the gesture and continue the conversation.

"Ah, I see you've had the misfourtune of meeting my personal, portable annoyance as well," he said in a mournful tone. Adele giggled, nodding as she hunched her shoulders and looked down a bit. When she looked up, his gaze was resting on her, a relaxed look on his face, his eyes warm and full of laughter.

"Yes, I suppose they'll both be cheering me on from the sidelines." His voice was thick with irony. She laughed softly and looked into his eyes, liking the man she saw behind them more and more.

**5/Delacova**

Aveline Lathan sat in a corner of the hall as Adele and Adam whirled around the dance floor. She sighed with deep satisfaction and settled further into her chair: everything was going according to plan. She had met all the strongest Blood in the Territory that night. _Well, most of them_, she corrected herself. Those who were not of sufficient standing to attend or were "unavailable" were already filed away in her calculating mind. Lucky for her, almost none of them were of age yet.

Most of the females hadn't gone through their Virgin Nights. The ones who didn't accept what she offered would find themselves under a man trained by Aveline, who would shatter their strength but leave their minds intact. The result would leave them a crippled shell of what they would have been, and therefore not a threat to Aveline's plans.

For all their strength, they were still young, and vulnerable to poisoned words, could be convinced to join with her. Aveline's lip curled as she thought of how that little bitch of a Queen with the dark hair had rejected her offer. Seeing as she came from one of the richest families in Tirrador, Aveline had expected her to join them, but Jacqueline Dubois had chosen her path, and she would pay for her mistakes. Pity her parents were already dead, though.

Still, a good number of strong Blood had joined her tonight, or would be in the future. She sighed in satisfaction as she watched the two lovebirds dance. Adele would be chosen by the majority of the darker-Jeweled Blood in Tirrador, it was obvious. She was the strongest among them, an "honorable" Queen who would follow Protocol and protect Tirrador. Too late now to change Adele and make her see her ways.

_But not to worry, darling, _Aveline thought as she watched the two dance, hugging herself at the glazed look in their eyes. A new plan quickly formed in her mind. This would work splendidy. _I will take care of you soon enough, with the help of my new weapon._ By the time he was done with her, Adele would be a broken, mad witch no one would ever dream of making Queen of anyone. That, or she was going to be so very, very dead. It was all going perfectly.

In a few weeks, Aveline would choose a young girl who was a threat, and therefore expendable, then savage her viciously. She would leave enough evidence that it was a Black Widow who had brutally murdered the poor girl. "A Sister who found the strain of her Craft too much and had tragically lost her mind," she would explain to the distraught parents regretfully.

It was just the bait she needed to get all of Tirrador buzzing about Black Widows and their evil Craft...all except her coven, of course. They would be there, defending, protecting, and serving the people. With all the young Queens and Warlord Princes out of the way, the people of Tirrador would be so grateful to her, so very much in need and in fear, that they would make her the High Widow of Tirrador. She smiled with savage pleasure at the dancers. _Rule while you can, you little fools, but in the end Tirrador will be mine._

_~*~_

What does the future have in store for Adele and Adam's relationship? How will their feelings affect their friends? And what does Aveline's plans for Tirrador's future bode for its people? Chapter 3 of Innocence of a Queen coming March 1st, 2010!_  
_


	3. Chapter 3

Omigosh FINALLY! I'm really sorry about how late this is, guys. Hopefully the content makes up for lateness! I'm working hard to make sure to start catching up with the other chapters. Anyway, there is a lot to talk about. Firstly, thank you to my beta reader, The Diamond Sorceress, she is amazing! Also, check out my profile guys, it now has proper name pronounciations, and personal updates from moi so you can see kind of where I am. Thank you everyone who has reviewed/added me to their watch lists! I love feedback.

Hope you guys like this chapter, a note for part 4: dances are NOTHING without good music, so I have a few musical suggestions that you listen to in order to get the true feeling I invisioned for that scene. In order: 1:Kecharitomene-Loreena McKennit, 2:Cartoch-Blackmore's Night, 3:Incantation-Loreena McKennit, 4:Ebudae-Enya, 5:The Memory of the Trees-Enya, (the name fits perfectly!) Anyway, those are suggestions to kind of get the mood I'm going for in those. Let me know how it works out, hope you guys enjoy!

**~Chapter 3~**

**1/Delacova**

Adele sat on the ledge of her balcony, basking in the morning sunlight and looking over the spacious yard and beyond to the forest that had been her playground since she was little. A brisk ride through the forest would do her some good before her studies, and then to her favorite private spot to have a quiet lunch. She briefly entertained the idea of bringing Delphine along, since they wouldn't have much time together before leaving for their training, but thought better of it. Adele was a Queen, and Queens need time alone with the land sometimes to listen to all it had to say. Smiling in anticipation, she hopped off the ledge, hoping a servant hadn't seen her and gone off to tell her mother. The thought sent her scurrying into her room to change into her riding outfit.

As she emerged, Adele almost ran into a female servant who had reached her hand up to knock on her door. Adele looked at her with a surprised blink before smiling. "Morning."

The maid blushed. "Good morning, young mistress." She had an odd look in her eyes as she smiled at Adele. "Your parents would like to see you downstairs in the family room." Adele's eyebrows shot up. "Oh," she said, but didn't get anything more out of the woman as she hurried off to her other duties.

Smiling to herself, Adele turned and started heading down to the "family room," a term her mother had insisted on using for the largest sitting room in the manor. It seemed silly, but her mother had always stressed the need for family interaction and closeness, and they _did_ spend most of their together time in the room.

As she entered the family room, the last person she expected to see was sitting right across from her parents. Adele's eyes widened, and a slight blush colored her cheeks.

"Adam?" she sputtered, blinking and looking back and forth from him to her parents.

Her mother beamed at her, fluffing her long locks with a twinkle in her eye that Adele didn't much care for. Her father… Taylor still had the strong, lean body of a honed warrior, which spoke of his earlier years serving as a guard in the Territory Queen's court; despite his years, golden blonde hair was only beginning to grey at the temples. He held himself with pride and poise as he spoke quietly to his guest, the Sapphire Jewel around his neck glowing softly. Looking up, he caught her eye with the same contained amusement as her mother. Whatever had happened to parental overprotection and all that?

"Adele, why don't you come sit down," her father said cheerily as he motioned for her to sit next to her mother…and closest to their guest.

She obeyed, wary eyes never leaving Adam. And there he sat, his clothes informal but still in good taste, watching her as well. He smiled at her with his fingers laced together and one leg crossed over the other, as if he had every right to barge into her house and nonchalantly have a little chit-chat with her parents.

"As I was saying," he said, "I came because I had the pleasure of meeting Adele a week ago at the ball our family hosted. Unfortunately, I'm afraid our time together was too brief for my liking, and so I came to see if the Lady wouldn't object in spending the morning with me."

Adele's eyebrows shot up in surprise—such a blatant invitation was both galling and polite, since he had come here unannounced and yet asked her parent's permission. She was still searching for an answer as he took in her riding clothes, one perfect eyebrow rising in interest. "And since the Lady is already dressed for it, might I suggest we enjoy a ride together on this fine day?"

Adele instantly flushed but managed to regain her composure. There had to be a way out of this yet. And there it was. Adele smiled at Adam with sweet malevolence.

"That would be lovely, Prince, except for the fact that you unfortunately do not seem to have any riding clothes on you, and no horse in to take." She straightened as she spoke, her hands collected delicately in her lap, but her eyes stabbed at him as her verbal thrust hit. He just gave her a rueful smile and sat back in his seat.

"Too true, but it just so happens I have my riding clothes in the carriage outside, and I'm sure Lady Ashlyn wouldn't be opposed to me borrowing one of your horses for a few hours." Not exactly as dashed as she'd hoped. Resisting the urge to hiss, she looked at her mother as she chimed in.

"Of course, it would be no trouble at all. You can take Shinedown." Her mother grinned at her, and Adele knew she was in on it. She clamped her teeth together in frustration, telling herself that ladies did not shriek and stomp about their family's living room in front of a guest just because they had been backed into a corner.

"Well, that settles it then, but I'll warn you two not to go outside the village's territory."

Her father gave her a wink and turned away. Heading off to his study to plot her marriage, no doubt. She watched her mother bounce up and excuse herself to the kitchen to go make them a lunch to take with them. Standing slowly, amusement bright in his eyes as he nodded to her, Adam hurried to the front of the house to get his riding gear.

Adele blinked, confused and bewildered at how fast all of this had happened. It was like a hurricane had just whipped her up, tossed her about like a rag doll, and spit her out. She raised a hand, amazed that it was not shaking, and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. Hopefully she'd be able to survive the morning.

* * *

_Traitors, the lot of them, _Adele thought menacingly as they rode in silence through the forest. Everyone had been enthusiastic as they had saddled up the horses and brought them out—even the maid who had scurried out of the house with their lunches looked a little bit too flushed, and it had nothing to do with running. They had practically had their own farewell party on their way out, and every single one of the people there seemed to have a perfectly good reason why they simply had to be outside at that very moment.

She shot Adam a shy, sidelong glance; He looked perfectly at ease with their silence, just enjoying the morning and her company. She took a moment to study his features, a face with a strong but slender jaw line, green eyes that seemed calm and collected, as if the tense scene at the ball had never taken place. His tanned skin looked warm, especially when it was bathed in the morning sunlight. His orangey hair stood out brightly against his darker skin and clothes, fiery and alive against the softer natural colors around him: the passion of a Warlord Prince. Everything they did was passionate; anything with feeling was taken to the next level: love, hate, anger, violence. But all that was so easy to forget as she gazed over at him now.

As if he sensed her eyes on him, he turned, eyebrows raised slightly in silent questioning, a slight smile on his lips. "Something wrong?"

His smile was contagious. She shook her head and looked forward. "No, but I am a bit confused," she admitted, glancing over at him.

"That's understandable. You wake up one day to find someone you met less than a week ago having a chat with your parents, and the next thing you know, here we are, riding together completely alone." He turned to face her completely. "Are you afraid of me?" His eyes narrowed, his tone and every line in his body serious. Oh, she knew he meant it as a threat—she glanced at the Green Jewel resting on his chest as it glowed with stored power, knew he could destroy her if he wanted. But she was a Queen; she knew how to handle males. It was more than training: it was instinct, a part of what she was, and in that moment the Queen took over, looking at the Warlord Prince with measured calm.

"No," She said simply, "but I am cautious of you. I know you have to be handled with care, and you're not a man to be taken lightly." Her voice softened. "You're a Warlord Prince, Adam. I wouldn't expect anything different of you."

He relaxed visibly, letting out his breath in a rush of air and offering her a quick smile. "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that. Every other female besides my little sister is either scared silly of me or wants…" He couldn't finish, and Adele jumped in for him.

"Wants your power, but doesn't want you."

Understanding filled her eyes. He nodded, staring at her, reaching out for her with those eyes. Filled with pain, locked away in rejection because of who and what he was. Pity and anger surged in Adele; the need to protect him took hold. He deserved better than this. But what could she, a woman and a member of the same sex that had inflicted this pain on him, do to help? Why would he even want her help? Ashamed of her gender and confused about what to do with this damaged Warlord Prince, Adele turned her head, looking straight ahead as they continued on and the silence lengthened.

The silence stretched on, and the tension grew until it became a wall between them that neither could breach.

* * *

Once they had laid out the blanket in a sun-drenched meadow, Adele sat down, stretching her legs out in front of her and leaning back on her hands. She smiled lazily as Adam settled down next to her effortlessly, sitting cross-legged with his hands on his knees. Hoping to alleviate some of the previous tension and make amends, she cocked her head at him and said as sweetly as she could, "Could you get the lunch out for me?

Smiling uneasily back, he reached out and started setting up the generous lunch her mother had packed for them. By the time he had gotten it ready, his mood seemed to have improved. He was a Blood male, and Blood males protected and served, so giving him the opportunity to do something that would aid a female would help him get in control of his emotions and satisfy an innate need at the same time. He offered her the warm sandwich that had been kept in a spelled wrap; she accepted it and began to unwrap it.

"Thank you, Prince," she said formally with a hint of a grin under the strict guise.

He returned the grin. "You're welcome, Lady."

They ate in companionable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the natural sounds of the woods around them. His company was much more enjoyable now that the melancholy mood had passed.

"You know…" he said speculatively, eyeing the almost completely eaten food, "your mother is an amazing cook for an aristo witch."

Adele bristled automatically. "Yes, she's a hearth witch and an amazing aristo Lady. Better than sitting on your ass all day and doing nothing." Her eyes blazed with hot anger as she stared at him. "My mother's just someone who enjoys working with her hands and creating things. There's nothing wrong with that." When his laughter rang out through the clearing, Adele wanted to rip his guts out.

"I meant no offense, Lady," he said breathlessly as he rocked forward again to look at her. "I was simply stating that she is an amazing and talented woman…just like her daughter. It doesn't matter what caste or social rank she is."

Adele gaped at him for a moment before flushing and looked away. When he laughed softly, she peeked up at him from under her bangs; he was wearing an easy grin, but something about his face made her realize he was nervous, too. Wild-shy, she lowered her eyes again, too nervous to speak.

Adam sighed gustily, and Adele looked up to see him running a hand through his orange hair. Seeing him so flustered was so...fascinating, and exciting at the same time. The butterflies that had been lying dormant in her stomach since the ball took flight again.

"Listen, Adele, I'm going to be honest with you, because…well, I think that's the way it's supposed to be done with us."

Her head perked up, but her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "Us? Because we're young?"

He shook his head, his face set in a severe expression, like he was concentrating on something hard—or thinking about something. The breath caught in Adele's throat; her heartbeat quickened as she looked at that intense face.

"No. Because I'm a Warlord Prince."

She said nothing because she had no answer for that. What in the name of hell was he talking about? He sighed again, paused as if thinking about something, then shook his head.

"I asked for you to accompany me today because, well…at the party, you…" He growled in frustration, and the butterflies fluttered frantically, brushing their wings against her the edges of her stomach. "You…interested me," he finished lamely, seeming even more frustrated. "And what I wanted to say was...what I wanted to _ask_ you was, if you would accept my courtship."

It took Adele a few breathless moments to decipher that question; meanwhile, the butterflies were having a field day in her stomach. When she finally did manage to understand what he had just asked her, she felt the familiar urge to flee like a rabbit, and at the same time felt like she could roar like a lion. She took a breath to steady herself—it wasn't like it had been disguised in any way. It seemed so painfully obvious now that this was what the whole situation was all about: Adam had asked her parents already, and they had agreed. She wanted to kick herself for her own stupidity.

Adele looked up at Adam. He was a pleasant person, handsome, and genuinely interested in her—a worthy suitor. The word brought color to her cheeks and made her breathless, but more than all that, she liked him. She realized it now, that she had been getting more and more interested in Adam and wanted to know more about her mysterious Warlord Prince suitor.

A warm feeling settled in her stomach as she looked up into his eyes. "I will accept your offer, Prince Adam." He grinned widely and bounded up, holding his hand out to her. She paused for a moment, nervous, then took his hand. Pulling her up, he lead her off the blanket with a sweeping grace that made her blush more.

"Allow me to clean up so we can be on our way, Lady," he offered, voice sending thrills of pleasure rolling down her spine.

She nodded, and he went to work cleaning up their little picnic while she admired the sunny meadow. With her hands clasped behind her back, she walked about, enjoying the brisk fall morning that was swiftly turning into a beautiful afternoon. She needed a moment or two to clear her thoughts, but after Adam's back was turned she broke out into a furious grin—she felt so happy she thought she might burst. There was just no way to contain it.

By the time she had made a full rotation, Adam was finished and standing next to her, his body shaking slightly with intensity. She froze, feeling that tension in him, and the nerves that drove it, and her own body trembled in response.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, each unsure what to do or what not to do. Adam broke the locked gaze first, lifting a hand and running it through Adele's long hair. She watched, mystified, as his hand gently pulled up and through the strawberry-blonde strands. She shifted her eyes to look at his face, which was just as entranced as she knew hers must be. Feeling her eyes on him, those green eyes looked up to capture her gaze. His eyes were so intense, it was as if he could see right through all her inner barriers just with his eyes. It was as thrilling as it was terrifying. They stared for a few moments before he laughed nervously and turned towards the horses.

"I'd better take you home. I shouldn't keep you from your studies, and it would be best for our first outing if I returned you home early." His eyes were amused, and at the moment, she didn't care if he took her home at midnight.

* * *

When they rode up to the estate, Adam heard Adele groan as she saw her sister waiting at the stables to greet them. The young woman was perched against the wall with her arms folded, giving the two of them a toothy grin that made him extremely nervous and sweaty without knowing exactly why.

"Lady Delphine," Adam greeted her formally as they rode up.

"Adam," she responded informally. He dismounted evenly, ignoring the verbal slap and turned to help Adele, only to find her already off her horse and glaring hotly at her sister.

"I apologize for my sister's insolence, Prince, she-"

"Well, I just thought that since your relationship had reached this stage, we'd drop the whole formality crap and just get straight down to business."

Adele hissed and looked like she was about to burst. "You think an awful lot."

Feeling sweat starting to form on his forehead, Adam licked his lips and stepped forward. Delphine was a tart witch, and normally he would have been reluctant to approach her because of the way he had been treated by other females like her—but the fact that she was Adele's sister was something he could not ignore. He wanted very much to be in her favor right now. More to the point, he didn't want to have to break up or even get anywhere near either of them when whatever was simmering between them boiled over.

"Delphine is right: it would be better to regarded each other informally."

He kept a deliberately blank look on his face as Adele turned her suddenly hawkish gaze on him. Apparently he had passed the test, because she sighed and took her mare's reins, starting to walk her towards the stables.

"So, what were you two doing in the forest together?" Delphine's question was innocent enough, but there was nothing innocent about the accusing tone and wicked smile that bloomed as she looked at her sister, who instantly bristled in response. Mother Night, did this witch enjoy pissing people off so much? _Probably,_ he answered himself dryly—all one had to do was look at her face.

"That is none of your business, sister," Adele replied icily from a few paces away.

"I'll help you with her," Delphine offered as followed.

Adam's insides turned to jelly. _Mother Night that woman is insane! _At that moment, a stable boy came forward and took Adele's horse from her, and another took Adam's. The girls headed back to him, Adele's expression carefully neutral, Delphine's was openly grumpy. He coughed to hide a chuckle and decided that he had judged Delphine too quickly. He liked the girl, even if her tongue was sharp. She was honest and very intuitive, and she loved her sister very much.

"Let's go into the house," Delphine said as she hustled them in, and after a quick farewell to their parents, Adam was escorted quickly out and wished a merry day before he got the door slammed in his startled face.

Suppressing a growl, he turned and headed to the coach he'd summoned, hauled himself inside. While he could admire Delphine for her wit and her honesty, he had to admit, the little witch was going to be a thorn in his side, and damnit, they both knew it. Still, as the coach rolled into action, he couldn't help but smile as he thought over the morning he had spent at the Ashlyn Manor.

**2/Delacova**

Adam sat within the confines of his family's carriage and tried his best not to fidget. He was excited about this year's Festival of Thanks in a way that he hadn't been in the past five years. Adele's face appeared in his mind, and his stomach twinged with the first promise of butterflies. They were going to spend the whole festival day together, and though they wouldn't truly be alone, as Adele had her friends and he had his, it was still a date...sort of. A date. His stomach gave another funny little twinge.

Because he needed a distraction from the terror of his own thoughts, Adam looked out of the window. All of Tirrador was ablaze with color this time of year. It was the changing season, and the trees that covered his wooded homeland were dancing their last in full glory before sleeping for the winter.

The Festival of Thanks was an important holiday to the people of Tirrador. All the Blood gathered in communities to celebrate the fruitful gatherings of the season and to dance once more before winter set in. The connection to the land was an important thing, especially for the Blood. So they made merry for the entire day, laughing and playing, then they feasted together and danced until nightfall. When the time came, the people would gather and perform a community ceremony to thank the land and the Darkness for all they had been given, and to give back to the land. This gift would strengthen it for the coming winter months and establish their connection with the land they had been charged to protect and cherish. It was in no way as sacred to them as Winsol--the celebration to honor Witch—but to those who depended on trees and were at the mercy of the winter for so many months, thanking the land for all it had given them was vital.

"Addy, are you queasy?" Ivy's voice interrupted his thoughts and drew his eyes to her little face. She sat next to him, her face inquisitive as she looked him over. He smiled at patted her head as he looked up at the carriage's other occupants.

"I'm fine, squirt."

Sybilla was fixing her makeup in a compact mirror that she held in front of her face. The Festival of Thanks was a largely outdoors event, seeing as it was the Blood's connection to the land, but apparently no one had informed his mother of this fact. She wore a dress that was just short of being a formal evening gown; and while she was wearing the traditional fall colors of the festival, Adam knew she only attended because it was a chance to make an appearance...and to scope out the newest "friend."

Next to her, his father looked out the window, pretending to admire the view of the trees, pretending not to notice his wife's gaudy outfits that showed off her body, or her numerous male "friend" callers. Or staying at work late to allow her time to clean up after herself and be presentable to her husband when he came home. Yes, there was much his father pretended to do. Trying to hide his disgust, Adam looked at his younger brother, Valentine. Though he was older than Ivy, he was still a few years younger than Adam. That still didn't make him any less of a pompous, spoiled brat.

Valentine Lathan had been spoiled rotten from the moment he had been born. Adam had been treated that way, doted upon from dawn until dusk, fed sweets until his teeth would fall out. But that was before Khevin had gotten his hands on the beast he had been and taught him how to really live his life. His father ran a very successful business, and probably had wanted Adam, as his oldest son, to take over for him, so Adam had spent the first few years of his life being carefully groomed to his father's liking. And then Khevin had come into Adam's life and showed him how to be a boy, ruining all their careful training.

Unfortunately, his father still needed an heir, so the duty was passed onto the next son in line. So, Adam was discarded as "hopeless" and left to his own designs while Valentine was groomed to rule their father's business, much to his liking. Noticing his elder brother's glance, Valentine looked up and gave Adam a smug grin before going back to eating his lollipop, fat fingers curled around the stick greedily, as if he thought Adam might snatch it from him.

No, it was too late for Valentine; Adam had been too young to understand what was going on when he was born, but by the time Ivy was born, Adam snatched his littlest sibling up and put her under his protective wing to keep her safe from his parents and their conniving schemes. He had always regretted letting Valentine fall into his father's hands, regretted the spoiled brat he had become, but he couldn't save his brother.

And then there was _her_, the crème of the crop, the grand jewel of their broken family. Aveline. He suppressed a snarl; his eldest sister was, thank the Darkness, not with them. She had sneeringly announced that she would not be joining them and would be going with her friends to the Festival. Adam doubted she would even attend at all, what with how "busy" she had been the past week. And it wasn't just the usual—she seemed to have a purpose this time, she hadn't even tried badgering him with her stupid friends lately. Hells fire, he had hardly seen her at all the past week. She kept herself locked in her room for the most part, and met with lots of different people at all hours. The Darkness only knew what she was planning; he could only hope it was nothing to do with him.

There was no doubt about it: the Lathan family was rotten to the core.

"Will Adele be there?" his only favorite sister questioned him.

"Yes, she'll be there. You can come with me and see her if you want." Her whoop of pleasure drew a hiss from Sybilla.

"We're here," he announced as they drove into the main part of the village and the carriage pulled to a stop. With a squeal, Ivy jumped over him and hopped down the steps of the carriage, staring around with wide eyes at the bustle of people going every which way in the village. Chuckling, Adam walked up beside her just in time to have his hand grabbed and get hauled straight into the fray.

**3/Delacova**

Adam should have remembered how much energy a nine-year old girl could muster for holiday occasions. His little sister had dragged him all over the village, going to candy shops and stalls to look at every possible knick-knack for no discernible reason he could fathom. The little rat had even browbeat him into buying her a necklace made of seashells from a distant Territory, but as he watched her face light up with pleasure as he put it around her neck, he knew it was worth it.

Adam watched as Ivy's little brown head bobbed along the festival revelers, her shrieking laughter melting in and out of the sounds of the crowd. While his sister ran and twirled among the villagers, he kept a steady gait behind, enjoying the sights but keeping a watchful eye over his little troublemaker.

A dark hand clamped down on Ivy's shoulder, and she turned to look at a man to her side—a man Adam couldn't see. Alert and angry now, Adam slipped through the crowd, his temper rising at an alarming rate. Snarling, he reached for the man who dared to touch his sister...and found himself staring into Khevin's hazel eyes.

He blinked and tried to relax as Khevin gave him a rueful grin. "Jumpy, aren't you Adam? That's good. A Warlord Prince must always be on guard, especially when loved ones are near."

Adam growled in frustration. "But if I jump at every shadow, other people will...I just can't fit in with this temperament."

Khevin looked at him sharply. "Just because I'm not a Warlord Prince doesn't mean I don't know how they think. Do you really want to risk your loved one's lives just to save face? What happens when you relax your guard just once when it should have been up?"

Adam absorbed this while Khevin tugged on one of Ivy's curls, making her giggle. "As they say, better safe than sorry."

"Hi, Kev Kev."

Adam tried, however unsuccessfully, to hold back his snort of amusement as his friend's face heated. It was reassuring to hear that Ivy's embarrassingly childish nicknames weren't solely reserved for him.

"You still remember me, do you?" he asked dryly. "It's been five years."

Ivy smiled sweetly up at him and hugged him, smelling his shirt. "Yeah, but I remember how you smell."

"Not to mention the fact that I talked about you as much as I did," Adam added. "It's no wonder."

"I see."

Ivy stepped away, and Khevin handed her a little box. "Here you go, beautiful. Happy Festival." With a little squeal, Ivy opened the box and pulled out a pretty little necklace that Adam recognized as a Tawnar design.

They watched her put it on, the necklace tinkling gently against the seashell necklace before she resumed her little dance through the throng.

"Gifts to those you love to show your affection; and jewelry, specifically, to your lady friends to show them how much they mean to you, to compliment their beauty and remind them of you every time they see it on themselves. So they will always carry a bit of you with them."

Not so sure they were talking in such general terms as "lady friends" anymore, Adam's stomach did a queer little flutter. Just thinking of Adele looking at his gift, touching it gently while smiling and thinking of him, made him nervous and excited at the same time.

"Do you have your gift for Adele?"

"Yes."

A pause; Adam licked his lips nervously as he fingered the small box in his pocket. "Do you think she will like it?"

"Of course. You picked it out with her in mind, and that's enough in itself to show your affection. But yes, she will like it for what it is, as well. Simple so she can wear it with everyday clothing, and just a hint of you in it."

He swelled with pride and happiness as his fingers closed around the box, and a lump caught in his throat as he saw Adele and her friends come into view up ahead. Mother Night she was beautiful! Every time he saw her she got more beautiful.

"Then go tell her that."

Adam blinked and looked at his friend. His face heated. Had he said that aloud?

"Court her with affection, court her with gifts, but most importantly, court her with feeling, with your heart. Tell her how you are feeling—it helps form a closer bond if she feels you can tell her everything."

He tried to swallow that lump as they got closer. Adele wore a bright red and yellow...dress? wrapped artfully around her body, suddenly he was very glad of his present, as it would match her perfectly. Most importantly, she wouldn't realize until later that, embarrassingly enough, the jewels matched his hair color exactly. The groups got close enough so that he could see Adele's eyes shining with pleasure at the sight of him.

"Your Lady awaits, Prince."

**4/Delacova**

Listening to the sounds of the villagers cleaning the tables after the feast, Adam thought of the daytime events of the festival: the games, the celebrating, the merriment, and the feast. After the fun, but truly irrelevant events of the day, the entire gathering of Blood would sit together and feast. It was the last celebration and splurge of food besides Winsol before they would have to save for winter.

He looked up and saw the sun, not yet close to the horizon beyond—and the ceremony that followed—but nearing the evening nonetheless. Once the plates were cleared and put aside, the dancing would begin; and such dancing it was! Adam grinned in anticipation. Dancing of every kind, mostly joyous, happy tunes. It was nothing like the stately, stoic court dancing at balls, but every caste and social rank of Blood coming together as equals for the joy of it. It was a freeing experience, and Adam reveled in being just one of the crowd and not being put on display.

But more than all that, this year he had the most amazing partner.

Adele came up behind him and slid her fingers across his arm, through his hand, and threaded them with his. He smiled wistfully and looked down at the silver bracelet that now circled her wrist, dotted every so often with little jewels of a swirling red-and-yellow-color, the Warlord Prince in him purring with pleasure. While she wore that bracelet, it marked her as his. Before she had given him her promise, accepting his claim to her, but now it was clear to anyone. He stroked the bracelet gently, and felt a small answering: the bracelet was saturated with his psychic scent and would ward off any other male, telling him a powerful Warlord Prince had claimed her.

"You ready?" Something strange in her voice sent a shiver down his spine, even as it enticed him. She had laid a claim on him, as well—it couldn't be seen but, he knew it in his heart.

As he looked at the landscape, and then at her, he heard the drums begin to beat to a slow, gathering rhythm. His eyelids slid half closed, and he grinned at her lazily. Instead of answering her, he grabbed her hand and coaxed her to the dance floor. When they got to the large outdoor dance floor, there were already a few people who had answered the call of the drums. Shy, Adele only shifted slightly to the beat, he frowned at her. That would not do. He narrowed his eyes at her, smiling dangerously as the music began to pick up and other instruments joined in.

Just when it looked like he was either going to have to give up and let the music soothe her naturally into dancing, or else grab her and move her body himself, Delphine came from nowhere and grabbed her sister's hand. It pulled Adele's attention away from Adam, allowing her to focus on her sister, and slowly, she followed Delphine's movements. By the time the others joined them, Adele was dancing joyfully along with the rest of them.

Her blue eyes looked around and locked onto Adam's. Smiling as the music picked up yet again to a fast-paced song, she grabbed his hand as their feet began to fly. Grinning, he looked up to see Khevin dancing with Roxana and the rest dancing in a small group around him.

It was impossible to not get caught in the insane ecstasy of the music—they were all grinning like mad fools and dancing like they would never stop. Even Chris, when their eyes met, gave him a friendly smile and the two exchanged a quick little jig. It was like magic, how all their petty squabbles, all their differences could melt away with just dancing. The Fall Festival wasn't just about partying, it was about celebrating their togetherness and how they all made up part of an intricate pattern. By dancing together, every caste and every class, it reminded people that they had to work together to function as a whole. Not only to function as a village, but as the Blood who ruled and cared for the Realms.

The music began to change just a bit, the beat gradually slowing. Startled out of his trance, Adam looked up to see the sun beginning to sink below the horizon, it's violent red-orange color teased the senses and sent the land awash in a strange glow. Bathed in light, the seemingly normal grassland took on a urethral quality. Stunned into silence, his body held while the blood in him still churned, pumping fast from the dancing.

He watched the sunset in awe, lulled and excited at the same time. It was like he could feel the power rising up from the people around him, and, gradually, most of the music except for the pipes stilled until it was almost silent.

Then the Priestess called them to the ceremonial ring.

Her voice rose suddenly and hung, stinging the pure air with one piercing note. Then it fell and started an ancient song in Witch Tongue. Almost as one, the Blood stepped forward to obey her summons, gathering in their proper spots within the circle.

On the outermost ring were the non-Jeweled among the Blood; within the next the circle the Lighter-Jeweled Blood gathered according to their jewel rank and caste, the darkest jewels near the center. Then came the Priestesses, Healers, and Princes; beyond them were Black Widows and the Darker-Jeweled according to their ranks. Near the center were the Warlord Princes, forming a tight circle around center: the Queens.

Adam took his place and turned to the center of the circle, as did they all, and looked at Adele and Lady Claude, the only Queens in the village. Despite her earlier embarrassment, Adele looked calm and composed, in control. Her face was set in a confident expression as those hundreds of eyes looked at them, their leaders, for guidance.

Then the Priestess' voice called out again, bidding them all in the ancient language of Witch to gather their best to give back to the land. They all closed their eyes, and Adam began to glide down towards his inner web in the abyss. During this ceremony it always seemed effortless to reach that sacred place within himself—his inner web. Once he was settled just above the web, he began concentrating on the land and what it had given him this year, as he had been taught to do every year since he became old enough to participate in this sacred ceremony. Then a thought struck him, and the knowledge staggered him for a moment, forcing him to regain his focus to keep from being hurled blindly into the abyss. If he released the full strength that was gathered in him right now, the damage would be devastating.

They were all almost perfectly gathered to be easily eliminated with one blast of power in an outward ring. Was that why they were purposely set up this way, to show confidence and trust within each other? To trust that the Queens—in the very center of the circle and therefore in the best position to commit such a crime—would be benevolent instead of tyrannical? And that the numerous weaker Blood surrounding the middle would not turn inwards and overwhelm them while surrounded? He considered where the Warlord Princes stood, between the other Blood and the Queens—to protect, no doubt. But now they were vulnerable on two fronts: from the Blood on the outside, and the Queens at their backs. In their own way, they were all vulnerable to each other, and always had been.

Yes, Adam decided, it was about mutual trust and respect between not only the Blood and the land, but between the Blood themselves. Even knowing they could destroy each other so completely, Adam couldn't help but feel inwardly calm and proud of his people. Faced with such temptation every year and overcoming it time and time again made them even stronger. Focusing on this thought, Adam gathered his best to offer and lifted his ceremonial blade to cut his wrist in a swift stroke, letting the blood flow freely.

He opened his eyes to see that most of the villagers had already let their best flow. When he breathed in the power in the air, it bit at his tongue and stung his throat. With every eye fixed on them, Adele and Lady Claude raised their cut wrists to the heavens and said a phrase in the Old Tongue. The voices of the village followed as one after them as they let their blood, their power, flow back into the land. It would strengthen it for the coming winter and act as payment for everything they had taken from it over this last year. The delicate balance between the land and its people had to be maintained with care.

Adam counted the seconds carefully before sealing his wound with Craft. When they were done, the Priestess said the closing phrase to the ceremony, which was repeated back to her before the Blood stepped away to become simply people once again.

Even as they all began to flow away from the circle, the sacred energy and purpose of the ceremony remained with all of them as they walked away silently. Adam turned to Adele and caught her by the arm, gently but firmly holding her steady.

"You've given too much," he said a bit harshly.

She winced only slightly, but smiled without quite looking at him. "I gave everything back that I was given this year." When he just looked at her skeptically, she shrugged. "I got a lot."

He just huffed and shook his head gently.

"It was beautiful," she said softly, leaning on him just a bit.

Adam hugged her to him and used his other hand to smooth a stray hair away from her face. "Yes, it was."

**5/Delacova**

Christopher Deveraux sat in an informal drawing room in the Lavelle Manor House and looked at his hand of cards. He glanced up at Roxana, who sat across from him with a smug look on her face. He almost growled in frustration but swallowed it at the last second. Maybe he could get himself out of this yet. He sighed as he picked up a card and looked at it, yielding a slight lift of her eyebrows; a spark of interest came to life in her eyes.

He sighed. Then again, maybe not. For all her caring, gentle disposition, the witch could sure gut a man when it came to playing cards. Even he, a Warlord Prince, couldn't match her viciousness when she cut him down one play at a time until he finally threw his cards down, sighing in defeat. She hid her grin behind her cards before gently placing them down on the table. His lip twitched as he looked at her formidable hand.

"Best two out of three?" Roxana said meekly, trying to look innocent as he glared at her. Trying not to look too smug, she stood and brushed off her pants. "Perhaps not. Are you hungry? We can go grab something from the kitchen."

"Brilliant," he said, smiling at her with brittle humor. "Something you can't cheat at."

She didn't look at him as she turned and headed towards the kitchen, but she called over her shoulder, "Cheating is just another way for sore losers to classify skill." Muttering violent things under his breath, Chris followed her to the promise of food, hoping he'd have enough restraint to not shove whatever the little witch gave him down her throat.

A few minutes later, he sat at a table in the casual dining room and wolfing down a large meal while Roxana sat next to him, eating with a bit more restraint.

"So," Chris said between a mouthfuls, "why didn't Adele come today? She usually never refuses a chance to beat me soundly into the ground at cards." Roxana winced, a response he hadn't expected, and slowly, he put his fork down and studied her. "Roxana, why didn't Adele come?" His voice was very soft, very controlled; Roxana bit her lip and looked away.

"She's…well, she's with Adam," she said in a voice so soft he could barely hear her. Sweet rage swept him up in a tidal wave of red, caressed him as he rose slowly to the killing edge.

"I see," the Warlord Prince said in a calm voice that was anything but. "And why is she with him instead of us?"

Roxana squirmed in her seat. "They are courting, Chris. She wanted to have exclusive time with him so they could get to know each other, so she can decide if she wants him. It's the way it works with Warlord Princes."

He stood abruptly, making Roxana jump. "I know how courting works with Warlord Princes, _Lady_." His words were biting, and she winced, then looked away. Somewhere deep inside him, along with his rational mind, he regretted causing her pain, but now wasn't the time for apologies. "It seems I have a few things to talk about with the Lady." _Like how she was spending all her time with a new "friend" and dumped her old ones into the river._ Even if she was courting him, it didn't mean she had to spend every waking moment with the bastard. Oh yes, his Lady would understand when he was through with her.

"Chris-"

He cut her off with a harsh movement of his hand.

"I'll see you later, Roxana. Sorry."

He didn't say anything as he walked briskly out of the kitchen and towards the front door, striding with predatory grace to catch the Green Wind and head for the Ashlyn Manor.

* * *

Chris burst through Adele's bedroom door furiously then stopped, bracing his feet apart in a fighting stance and balling his fists, his eyes focused on her as she looked up from a Craft book she had been reading. Those blue eyes pinned him to the spot: he was facing his Queen, not Adele. She wasn't officially his Queen, because she wasn't of age and could not form a court yet, but he knew in his heart that he would always serve her and no one else.

"Adele." Chris' voice was rough with rage and pain as he looked at her.

"Chris," she responded flatly, putting her book down.

He paused now, at a loss of exactly how to phrase what he wanted to say. _You came here; grow some balls and do what you came here to do. _In the end, he just threw it out into the open. "What's wrong with us? Why are you abandoning your friends to spend time with..." he asked bitterly, pain he refused to show welling up behind his defenses, causing him to lash out furiously.

"With Adam," she said slowly, her temper rising. "The last time I checked, Prince, it was not illegal for a girl to date a boy."

For a brief moment of blinding fury, Chris seriously considered catching the Green Wind and hurling himself into a battle with Adam that would most likely cost them both their lives. It was almost appealing. Instead of dwelling, however, he tossed the first words that came to him at her.

"Unless you are throwing your friends away!"

She winced. "I...never knew you felt that way." Her quiet, hurt tone stopped him, and he was no longer sure exactly what they were talking about. Her eyes were pained as she looked at him, a hand braced against the desk for support. She was wearing nothing but a long nightgown, which made her look pale and thin. _Mother Night she looks so fragile_, he thought as she turned to face him, just a normal young woman again. The shock of seeing her so vulnerable pushed him away from the killing edge, and though her eyebrows furrowed stubbornly, her voice was still tired.

"You never indicated that you were interested in me in any way other than as a friend, and I have never thought of you as more than that." Adele paused. "No, that's not true. I think of you as a big brother."

Her words sliced at Chris, making him wince; he and Adele and Roxana had been friends since they were little, and he had never felt anything different for Adele until he had turned ten. Then he had started to look at her differently, noticing how nice she smelled and how pretty she was becoming; as he got older, that interest bloomed into love as he had watched her grow up. Chris had always been there for her when she needed him, giving support and assurance, comfort and protection, or a shoulder to cry on. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, and that included leaving and not getting in her way.

He could never be more than a friend to her now, had waited too long and never been bold enough to share his feelings, and now it was too late. Still, he couldn't blame her—he had always acted as a protector and a friend, had always been afraid that trying to initiate a different kind of relationship with her would ruin what he, Roxana, and Adele shared together.

He couldn't stay because he couldn't cause her the pain of tearing herself between him and another male; it wasn't fair to her. All he cared about was her happiness, even if it cost him his own. He fought a quick, nasty battle with himself before taking a deep breath and speaking.

"I understand. I'm not going to make you choose, Adele. I know you'll make the right decision about him if he's right for you. I won't get in your way." He choked on the words, and she was in front of him in an instant, wrapping her arms around him.

"Chris, how did I ever deserve a friend like you?" she asked softly as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to stop the tears. He held her tighter, savoring her scent, the warmth and feel of her for just another moment as he made a silent decision.

"I also came here to tell you that I'm going to be leaving for my training tomorrow. I came to say goodbye." It was a horrible lie, and they both knew it. Adele pulled back to look at him with horrified eyes dusted with tears.

"I thought you didn't have to go for another month."

He gave her a watery smile as he brushed her hair aside gently. "Lord Eric moved up the date. Who am I to argue with him? The Veranthis Mountains are tough to live in; maybe he wants me to be better prepared before the winter season arrives." In reality, Lord Eric, Master of the Guard for Lady Marrisan, a Province Queen in Northern Tirrador, hadn't moved up the date. Chris would leave tomorrow and beg Lord Eric to take him in early—he would do anything that was required, but he didn't want stay here another day to be in Adele's way.

He wouldn't be a constant reminder that she was hurting him while she tried to be happy with Adam. No, there was nothing worse he could to do her. He was going to start his formal court training, become a Guard for Lady Maris, and hone his skills as a warrior and Warlord Prince. Chris had been both looking forward to the training, eager to perfect his already sharp abilities, and dreading leaving the ladies in his life, but now he knew he would throw himself into his training with vigorous enthusiasm to cover the heartache.

Adele had already come to her own decision as she stared at him with a fathomless expression. "I see," she said, and he knew she really could see through him.

He was choosing not to cause a rift of hate between the males so deep Adele would have to choose one over the other. He needed to lick his wounds, to not be reminded of his pain while it lived so close to him. Then her face changed back, her eyes became glassy, and she buried her face in his chest. He could feel his shirt getting wet.

"I'll miss you, Chris."

He held her tighter to him. "I'll miss you too, Adele." Then he pulled her away gently and lifted her chin with his forefinger so he could look into those beautiful, teary blue eyes. "Don't cry, witchling, we'll see each other again—I'm not leaving for good." He grinned arrogantly now. "There's no way you're getting rid of me that easily." She gave him a watery smile and nodded.

"Bye, Christopher," she said, hugging him tightly before stepping back.

"Bye, Adele." He grinned at her and stepped way, then turned and walked slowly out of the house, caught the Winds, and with a heavy heart rode them home to prepare for his first day of court service.

**6/Delacova**

Violent, warring emotions swirling up and rising from the abyss awoke Jeremy Deveraux. He must have been tossing in his sleep for some time, because he woke up sweaty and tangled in his sheets. When he looked around and saw no physical disturbance in the still autumn night, he concentrated and descended into the abyss.

The pain was staggering.

He gasped aloud from the mental grief that ripped through the area at the level of the Purple Dusk, and started pulling out of the abyss.

_*She's gone.*_

The agony in that familiar voice stopped him, then sent him diving back into that psychic minefield.

*Chris?* No answer. *Chris, where are you?!* Panic rose in him. Who was gone? What was his brother talking about? Did he need help? Jeremy pulled the covers off and staggered out of bed. He couldn't be too far to be causing this much commotion in the abyss and to not be raising an alarm. Probably on their property somewhere.

*Chris, answer me, damn you!* he sent desperately. Nothing. He was probably too wrapped up in whatever pain he was riding at the moment to hear him. Gritting his teeth against the psychic discomfort, Jeremy headed straight into the storm.

Chris was in the forest, where Jeremy finally found him minutes later. He was a mess, hair tangled, eyes swollen with tears…and completely shut off from the physical world.

"Chris..." He swallowed and stumbled to sit next to his brother, wrapping his arms around him in an embrace.

Chris took a shuddering breath and looked at Jeremy with wild eyes. "Jeremy...I...I let her go."

Jeremy's heart beat wildly. Why did he keep saying that? Had something happened to Adele? She was the only person who could provoke this kind of reaction from his brother.

"What happened, Chris?"

"I let her go I—I'm going to leave tomorrow."

Jeremy rocked back a little, absorbing the weight of those words and what it had cost his brother. Chris was in love with Adele; Jeremy had known it for years. The others hadn't been able to see it, but her new relationship with the other Warlord Price was destroying his brother from the inside. But now...

"You're sure?" he asked gently. "Chris, you love her. Why-"

"Because she sees me like a brother!"

Jeremy was stunned into silence.

"Oh God, I let her go!" The words were almost a keen, and Chris instantly withered again, sobbing.

Shocked, Jeremy said nothing—what else _could_ he say? He just held on tightly while his heart bled for his older brother and hoped the next morning would bring something kinder.

* * *

Thank you for reading, Chapter 4 will probably be up in the next few weeks, followed closely by Chapter 5. Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Hello all! I'll be able to catch up with the chapters now that school has ended. I'll get Chapter 5 up as soon as possible. PLEASE review! I LIVE off of reviews! A special thanks to The Diamond Sorceress for being my ever-patient beta reader. Also, with the last scene, I recommend "Amarantine" by Enya, I think it really sets the mood. Enjoy!

* * *

**~Chapter 4~**

**1/Delacova**

Roxana Lavelle sat in the cozy sitting room at the Ashlyn Manor, nervously fingering the handle of her teacup. Turning from the window, Adele looked at her with harried amusement, hands still clasped behind her back. Roxana took a deep breath. It was the morning after Chris had stormed out of her house to confront Adele, and she could tell it had been a tough night for all of them. Now Chris was gone—and Adele had stiffly informed her of only the bare essentials. She huffed. Fine. If she wouldn't give the information readily, there were other methods of prodding it out of her.

"Adele, do you really think you should just let Chris go like that?" She lowered her gaze, fumbling with the cup. "He was really upset," she continued, peering up at Adele, who had turned back to the window.

"He is his own person, and he chose to honor Lord Eric's request to leave early-"

Roxana slammed her hand down on the table, rattling the dishes. "That's a shitty, trumped up excuse to escape from you and you know it, Adele!"

Adele whirled to face her, eyes furious and sparkling with tears. "You think I don't know that?" she demanded. "What would you have me do, Roxana? Order him to come back against his will and force him to watch while I…" Her voice caught, and she gulped to avoid dissolving into helpless sobs.

Alarmed, Roxana rushed over and wrapped her arms around her friend. "No, I wouldn't want that, but…I'll miss him. We'll miss him. He'll come back when he's ready."

They stood like that while Adele collected herself; talking about Chris was getting them nowhere fast. Desperate, Roxana searched for a safer subject.

"So, things have been going well with Adam?" She winced, even to her own ears it sounded tactless and forced. Adele, however, rewarded her with a quick smile and plopped down in the chair opposite Roxana, cupping her tea in her hands.

"Yeah, we've seen each other quite a lot in the last few weeks," she sniffed. "It's likely the one thing in my life that's going right at the moment."

Roxana laughed softly. She was truly delighted that Adele was happy with Adam, and that prudish Delphine approved of him was enough for her to trust him. Still, despite that, something snagged the perfect vision in her mind.

"What did he say when you told him you have to leave for Delleva for your training?"

She did _not_ like the uncomfortable silence that followed that question.

Roxana stared at her in disbelief. Surely she had realized that accepting his courtship and then leaving a few months later would damage their relationship!

"You're not serious, Adele, you haven't even told him?" She gaped at the girl across from her, then slumped back in her chair. "Mother Night."

Adele looked up at her with desperation. "Roxana, you have to help me! I don't know what to do! I really do like him, but I need this training in order to become a better Queen, to help my family, to help our people." She bit her lip. "But I really like him, and I don't want to hurt him and damage any chance we have at being together."

Roxana nodded, chewing on a fingernail as she thought. Then she snapped her fingers. "Ask him to wait for you." Adele just gave her a blank stare, so she shrugged and continued, "If he really cares about you, ask him to wait for you to resume your relationship."

"And ask him to remain faithful during that time?" Adele sprang out of her chair, pacing. "I can't ask that of him, not when I'm the one leaving."

Roxana shook her head. "No, he doesn't have to remain exclusive to you," _but he probably will be._ "You could ask him to consider putting your relationship on hold until you return, and then resume if you both want to." She looked entreatingly at Adele, "let him know how much he means to you, so he won't feel hurt or betrayed." She paused, then said softly, "Warlord Princes get like that sometimes." Her face went pale, and Adele stopped pacing to look at her.

Nodding, Adele started pacing again, though more thoughtful than frenzied. "That's perfect, Roxana!" She hugged her friend enthusiastically. "If I explain to him that I have to leave for our people, he should understand. And it's not like it's going to be forever, just a few years. I'm going to come back and visit, so I'll still see him."

Adele stepped back, thoughtful again. Then she looked pointedly down at Roxana, who averted her eyes down at her tea miserably and refused to meet Adele's gaze. "Roxana, what are you going to do when we're gone? Are you going to do any training?"

She shuffled quietly in her seat. It had been bothering her for a while, but she had hoped Adele wouldn't ask, sparing her the pain of explaining.

"I'm a Rose-Jeweled witch, Adele. You're an Opal-Jeweled Healer-Queen; Chris and Adam are Warlord Princes; Delphine is a Black Widow; and Jeremy wears the Purple Dusk. You all have so many talents to hone and work on, and I…"

Roxana wrung her hands self-consciously, and Adele put a hand on her shoulder. "Roxana, don't be daft." Shocked by her choice of words, Roxana looked up—she had considered herself a good number of things, but "daft" had never been one of them.  
"You're an extremely talented witch who has intellect and intuition on her side. I've always counted on you to see through tricks and to keep me levelheaded with your clear thinking. You're extremely loyal to those who earn it and will be an important asset in a court when the time comes. And there _will_ be a time, Roxana."

Roxana looked up and met Adele's serious gaze, giving her a small smile. "Thanks Adele." She thought for a moment. " I was actually thinking of going to an academy in South-Eastern Tirrador, but it won't be for awhile now, so you'll all be gone before I am."

She knew that Adele and the others were meant for great things, but she was so far behind them in both strength and caste, she hadn't thought she would be a part of those plans. Until recently, she hadn't noticed the huge differences between herself and her friends, but now that they were growing into their strengths, it was becoming painfully obvious she couldn't compete. Still, she would try to keep up with her friends, and be as helpful as she could. She met Adele's eyes confidently and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be going soon."

**2/Delacova**

Adam sat in the darkened theatre next to Adele, holding her hand as they both kept their attention focused on the stage. It was the opening night of the local theatre's performance, and Adele had asked him to accompany her. This would be the first time since the Fall Festival they had been seen together in public; he smiled and squeezed her hand. Smiling sweetly, Adele looked over at him, and his head spun as he looked at her: she looked simply stunning tonight. Even in the low light he could see the deep blue of her dress—it hugged her figure beautifully. The color drew one to her eyes, and it was an act of willpower to look away from them and focus on the play. Not that it wasn't interesting, but no play could possibly compete with Adele's beauty.

It wasn't just her looks that drew him like a moth to a flame; her psychic scent was irresistible, and as he got to know her better as a person, the more confusing, infuriating, and completely interesting she became. The Jewel around his neck glowed softly with his happiness—as it had often lately—more than it ever had in the last five years. And it wasn't just Adele who was having a positive effect on him: Khevin had visited him more and more often, offering advice on the impossible turns his Lady took that left him scrambling for a handhold. He was coming to grow more and more fond of Adele's opinionated little sister, Delphine, too. She was incredibly intuitive and helpful when she wanted to be, and, despite her saucy nature, he knew Delphine accepted him more completely than any of Adele's other friends.

A few days ago, he and Adele had spent time with Roxana, the witch he had danced with first at the party. She had been polite to him, but Adam sensed her internally pulling away from him. Still, he liked her despite her shyness, and if she could get beyond that, they could become closer. He was willing to do almost anything for Adele, and that included swallowing his pride and making peace with the Warlord Prince he had scrapped with at the party. But Chris, as he had been informed, had already left the village for his court training in Northern Tirrador. _Well, that's one battle I can save for later_, He thought dryly as he settled in to watch the play.

After the play, the two of them went out for dinner at one of the finest restaurants in Delacova, and Adam's personal favorite. He glanced up at Adele, who was poking about her food in a very unrefined way, and he chuckled. She would never have done that in front of someone in a "formal" meeting, which meant she was getting comfortable with him. Adam let that thought sink in, and the pleasure of it warmed him.

Finally, she selected a piece of meat to eat that suited her and jabbed it with her fork. "So Adam," she began, "what are your plans for the future?"

Dread rose up in him, and he nearly choked on his own food. Why was she asking him this now? He decided to play it safe. "Well, I'm not quite sure what you mean, Adele—do you mean the near future or the distant?" His purring tone was playful and seductive, and she glanced up at him, amused as she popped the meat into her mouth. When she was finished chewing, she spoke.

"The near future. I don't think you've had much formal court training," she began, eyes narrowed as she studied Adam, "but I do think that court life would suit you."

He smiled darkly at her, twisting his fork around some noodles on his plate. He had no idea where this conversation was going, but he liked her reaction to his mood shift. "Yes, I've thought much the same thing. I haven't had any formal training in a court, just what Khevin's taught me." He paused now, unsure. "I was considering going back to Tawnar with Khevin soon. His people's combat training is legendary." He paused again. "Actually, I don't know much more about it. It's all very secretive, you see."

Her eyes sharpened in interest. "The people of Tawnar would welcome you as their own? I understood they don't let outsiders into the area they control around their village; they guard their borders fiercely."

Adam smirked at her, arrogant now. "They don't allow outsiders…usually. Apparently because of my bond with Khevin, they've made an exception for me…assuming I accept."

Her eyebrows shot up in response. "You would dare refuse?" she asked, clearly admiring his gall.

Adam hesitated. In truth, he _had_ been planning to accept Khevin's offer to return to Tawnar with him, but since he and Adele had been together…he wasn't sure he wanted to leave anymore. Now that they were bonded he didn't want to be away from her. The savage Warlord Prince in him that desperately craved her nearness howled in agony at the thought of it.

"You shouldn't refuse their offer, Adam. It would be an insult to them, and besides, this is your future we are talking about. The people of Tawnar will give you excellent training. And…"

She paused, and his heart stopped. _No, please, Sweet Darkness no_. Desperation and fear clawed at his stomach, churning up the excellent meal he had just eaten. It had been going so well up 'til now; why would she reject him and send him away?

"My family is sending me to Delleva in about a week to continue my schooling and to start my real training. They've insisted that I receive the best training I can for when I become Territory Queen." She snorted delicately, and the fear in him receded a little. "They talk as if it's already been decided."

_As far as most of Tirrador is concerned, Lady, you will be_. He didn't have to say it—she would realize it soon enough. Adele was the strongest Queen they had; already she understood many things that other females her age couldn't comprehend, and the people adored her. It was no wonder her parents insisted on sending her to the capital city of Tirrador to be groomed by only the very best. He understood the sacrifice it took them to send Adele away, for her own good and for Tirrador's. While in Delleva, she would gain a far better understanding of her Territory and what it needed than if she remained in this secluded village in Western Tirrador.

Even though he understood, it still didn't dull the pain. She would go, there was no question about it. She was too good of a Queen to refuse when she understood the importance of it. He sat back in his seat, putting his hands behind his head, and studied her.

"In that case, I think I'll take up Khevin's offer then." Adele looked up at him with such obvious relief it hurt. A moment later, her happiness wilted.

"Adam, I really am sorry." She reached a hand out and placed it over his. "I really do like you, and the only reason I'm asking you to put our relationship on hold is because it wouldn't be fair to either of us to ask for more…until we both return." Hope lit his eyes as he stared at her. Could he dare to think that she was speaking the truth? No, he knew she was. She wouldn't lie to him. It was her sense of duty that drew her away.

Nodding quickly, he turned his hand to hold hers and smiled with relief. "Until we both return, Adele." He knew in his heart there was no one else who could hold him like she could, but for now he would humor her. Adam knew he would wait for her no matter what.

"I'm so glad you understand." The tension that he had felt in her all night slipped away, and she smiled at him. "I'm going to miss you, though." She looked at him shyly from under her lashes. "Maybe we could visit from time to time."

He chuckled and squeezed her hand. "I'm sure it could be arranged."

**3/Delacova**

Aveline Lathan stepped out of the coach and quickly hustled into the Lathan Estate, not even nodding at the footman who hurriedly opened the door for her. Winter in Tirrador was closing in quickly, and today the Delacova wind had a bite to it. A male servant came up to her and cautiously bowed. "Lady Lathan, your guests arrived not too long ago. I escorted them to the formal sitting room in your suite." He paused, licking his dry lips. "Should I inform them you have arrived?"

"No, that won't be necessary. Leave me," she said as she waved her hand dismissively. He bowed and scurried off like a cockroach. Aveline's upper lip curled slightly in disgust. When she ruled, she would have better trained servants than this. But that wasn't important right now. With a flourish, she turned and swiftly climbed the steps to her suite and to her waiting guests.

Aveline opened the door, and two pairs of dark eyes that were black as the night looked up to meet her. "Sister," she said tipping her head slightly at the female, then turned to the male. "Prince."

They responded in kind, and she sank gracefully into a chair next to the dark woman with the grey-tinted skin and ink-black hair. Her body was decorated here and there with black tribal tattoos, and she wore steel tribal jewelry on her ears and neck. A Summer-sky Jewel hung at her throat, the only item of color on her.

"So, Aveline, what's the gossip in the village?" she asked, her voice heavy with a strange but lovely accent.

Aveline grinned. "Everything is going perfectly, Zahira. The bitch's Warlord Prince left a few weeks ago, brokenhearted that his Lady chose our Adam over him."

"Perfect. He's out of the way for now until we can deal with him," Zahira said, inspecting her nails. "It's a pity we can't use him for our purposes, but I suppose it's for the best. She looked up, waiting for the rest of the report, and Aveline continued.

"Adele is leaving soon for Delleva for her training, followed by Delphine, who is continuing her apprenticeship in the Hourglass Coven." Seeing Zahira narrow her eyes, she stopped.

"And you're certain she cannot be swayed to join us?" she asked. "She is a Sister of the Hourglass, after all; maybe we could-"

"No, that one will not betray her sister. I have seen it," she answered, which meant Aveline had spun a tangled web to see what would happen if she offered Delphine a place in her coven. She shuddered at the memory of that vision. "That bitch is useless to us now. If we allow her to grow into maturity and finish her apprenticeship, she will hinder our plans."

Zahira crossed one leg over the other. "I see. Most unfortunate, then. But we have some influence in the Hourglass coven. I'm sure we could find a quiet way to be rid of her."

"Still, now we have a clear field to Adele." Aveline smiled slowly. "And now that she is leaving for her own training, I can begin to spin the dream web that will slowly ensnare Adam's mind," she said, settling deeper into her chair. "I will begin gently at first, slipping subtle doubts into his dreams about her. As time passes without her, he will doubt even more: I will twist his memories of her and make him think she was using him just like the other women. In a few years, when I'm through with him, all he will want to do is destroy her for using him. He will strike so quickly that no one will be able to stop him." Zahira echoed her vicious grin, "And when dear Christopher learns of the girl's death…" She shrugged.

"Let them tear each other apart. Takes care of them both at the same time," Zahira finished for her. "This must be done carefully, Sister. It won't be easy to convince him to betray her," she continued, and Aveline gave her a sharp look, "but I'm confident that with your skill you can handle it."

The male, with skin a shade darker and wispy grey hair, spoke for the first time. "What about his friend?" His dark eyes turned to his Lady. "He is from Tawnar. His people will be able to see through this trap." Zahira smiled at him, patting his hand. "That's where I come in, Eran. While he is staying in Tawnar, I will create a tangled web from Indum to keep anything off with him masked from any Black Widows that would think to look closely."

He smiled, understanding. The people from the blackest, most fearsome forests in all of Tirrador lived in the easternmost part of the Territory. They were from the village of Indum, probably an independent Territory at one time. But they were too fierce, their bloodlust never satiated, and they paid dearly for it. Nearly all of them had been wiped out, and only the village of Indum remained.

Because they were so close, Tawnar and Indum were bitter enemies, had been for many centuries now. They were both villages of the wildest forests in Tirrador, just on the edge of the border. Each hated the other, and they were constantly fighting. Aveline had discovered that Indum, starved for power that could help them rebuild their bloodthirsty society, would be helpful in her plans to dominate Tirrador. Thus had she met Zahira, soon to be the village's new Queen when she came of age, and Eran, a strong Warlord Prince. Both had been highly enthusiastic about helping her, and she was coming to like Zahira more and more. The woman thought on the same wavelength, so Aveline almost never had to explain something twice, and sometimes not at all.

Aveline sat back in her chair, so content she could practically purr. "Well, they have certainly made our work easier for us, but still it will be a challenge, Sister." Her face was grave as she looked at Zahira. "We must strike while they are weak, before they go through their Virgin Nights and make the Offering. If they come to power and link us to the misfortune they have gone through, we won't have the strength to stop them."

"Of course. We still have a few years, Sister, be at peace. Everything will be taken care of." Zahira called in a steaming brew, handing it to Aveline. She took it gratefully and sipped it, then sighed with pleasure and relaxing into her chair. Their plan was perfect, and as long as it was taken care of properly, Adele and her little group of friends would end up dead or broken; once they were rendered harmless, she would make what was left of them kneel at her feet. The thought warmed her as much as the brew did. Her green eyes narrowed, and a slow smile crept up on her lips as she drank.

**4/Delacova**

They lay in the very same meadow they had their first outing. Adam sighed, shifting his arm slightly so Adele was closer, her head pillowed on his shoulder. She was fast asleep and had been for the past hour or so. He couldn't blame her—she had had to pack this last week, and now it all sat next to the entryway of the Ashlyn Manor, ready to depart along with her tomorrow morning. It would soon be sunset, and then he would have to take her home.

Adam sighed again as the sadness crept in while he watched the sunk sink towards the horizon. He had done his best to hide his feelings and be supportive and happy for her while she had been whisked up in the whirlwind of getting ready for her move to Delleva. Around her furious energy, his moping had nowhere to hide, and he found himself caught up in her happiness and made it his own; but when he was alone back at his house with no one but Ivy for company, the sadness and despair was easy to succumb to. Adele was leaving him, and he would only see her sparingly over the next few years until she returned. But the capital was an interesting place—so much to see, so many people to meet, so tempting for a Queen who would rule their Territory to stay… _No!_ He drove the thought away viciously. She wouldn't forget about him; Adele wasn't that kind of person. She was caring and sweet and strong, and Mother Night he loved her.

Shocked surprise met that thought as soon as it popped up. He loved her. Adam let the realization sink in for a few moments, let it echo through his mind until it was a fact, until every fiber of his being understood it. A soft smile formed on his lips, and he gathered her closer with both arms. She moaned lightly and looked up at him. Smiling groggily, she reached up and touched his face. "Hi."

"Hey, sweetheart." Adam rubbed her arms. "You want to watch the sunset with me?"

"Mm, okay." Adele groaned, struggling to get up. He still had that silly smile on his face as he stood and led them to their horses. They mounted and galloped off through the forest to the spot where they always went to watch the sunset.

Dismounting, they walked over to the ledge of the cliff. It had a grand view of the forest-covered land. The bottom of the sun was just brushing the trees when Adam gathered Adele in his arms and settled them down on the ground to watch their last sunset together. They said nothing while they watched, just enjoying the time together. Adele had spent the previous night with her family and Roxana, so the two had had the entire day together, and they had taken full advantage of it. That morning, they had toured the village and bought mementos to remember each other by. Josephine, who lavished Adam with so much food and attention he suspected he might be putting on weight, had made them a wonderful lunch. The rest of the day had spent riding.

A sad smile tugged at Adam's lips as he watched the sun disappear behind the ridge, and Adele rubbed her head against his neck; he responded by holding her closer.

"It's not forever, you know." she said softly, too aware of his mood for his taste. "I'll still visit you, and you'll be so busy you won't even notice I'm gone." He nodded, still looking out over the now-darkening land.

"Hey, don't be so sad—we'll write each other, too." She wiggled out of his grasp and turned to face him. "I promise, Adam, I won't forget about you." Her voice was soft and soothing as she caressed his cheek, studying his eyes.

He gave her a quirky smile and nodded, brushing a hand through her hair. "I know, Adele," he said softly, hoping his voice wouldn't break and betray the emotions warring inside him.

He didn't trust himself to say any more for fear he would beg her to stay and destroy her future, so, with a sigh, he hauled them up and kissed her on the cheek. Giving her a wicked smile, he turned and dashed for Shinedown, jumping on the stallion's back and turning him towards the path. Fuming, Adele ran after him and was in the saddle before he turned to look back. They sped side by side along the path, the wind chilling them enough to make them slow to a walk after a brisk little ride. Breathless and laughing, they traded punches and petty insults as they rode back to the manor.

Their goodbye was quick and, to his disappointment, supervised by Adele's family. They had gathered in the entryway to bid him farewell, so he said his goodbyes to Taylor and Josephine and turned to Delphine, who grinned at him, her eyes twinkling.

"Take care of yourself, Adam. Don't get into too much trouble without me."

He flushed, remembering how she had coerced him into playing a practical joke on the poor Maddy. The only reason he'd agreed was Delphine's assurance that she _knew_ Adele wouldn't be interested in a man who didn't have the balls to prank a mere housekeeper. That "mere housekeeper" had nearly dented his head in with a broom when she had caught up with him, and Delphine had mysteriously disappeared moments before he was caught. He had had to take all the blame, something he wasn't pleased to be reminded of, and he glared down at the little imp.

"I'll try," He growled sourly as he pulled her close for a slightly-too-tight hug, at which point he felt her sharp little nails prick into his back. He released her quickly and turned to Adele.

The breath whooshed out of his lungs; she nervously twisted her fingers together, looking up at him through her bangs. Grinning, Adam grabbed her arm, pulling her against him. "None of that, witchling," he growled softly as he hugged her, pressing his face into her hair. He felt her laugh against his chest, her arms circling his waist to hug him back.

It felt like a lifetime before he finally released her and stepped back, and it still wasn't enough. Her eyes filled, and he reached up and wiped away the tear that slid down her cheek. "Don't cry. Like you said, it won't be for that long." He smiled gently at her; and she gave him a watery smile and nodded.

"Bye, Adele."

"Bye, Adam," Adele said in barely more than a whisper before he rushed past her and out the door.

He walked up to the carriage, put a foot on the first step, and looked back. Adele stood in the doorway looking the part of the forlorn maiden, abandoned by her knight. _Damnit, she's the one who's leaving_, Adam growled, _so why do I feel guilty? _She waved, and he hopped into the carriage, shut the door, and watched from the window as she disappeared into the night.

**5/Delacova**

It was hours after he and Adele had said goodbye, and yet Adam still hadn't gotten to sleep. He growled anxiously as he tossed in his bed: the sound of the pounding rain outside grated against his nerves—it was like a constant reminder, one thousand anxious pokes nagging at him. Nagging, nagging, nagging. He struggled with the sheets and ended up hopelessly tangled. Sighing, he untangled himself and sat up, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Damn, he was already a wreck. Something was bothering him, like he hadn't done something right. Why? Rising, he paced the bedroom, then froze mid-step. He hadn't really said goodbye to Adele—not the way he had been hoping to.

Adam narrowed his eyes and thought. There was only one thing to do: he had to go to Adele and give her the goodbye she deserved, the kind that wouldn't let her soon forget him. _Forget me not!_ There were some vines of that exquisite flower growing on the side of the house near Adele's bedroom window. He grinned. Yes, that would be perfect. With purpose now, he dressed and headed to his Lady.

As he walked up to the Ashlyn Manor, he looked up at the house, beautiful even with the relentless rain, which it seemed to welcome the as readily as the trees did. Somehow, the manor seemed to fit into the surrounding land effortlessly, as Adele fit among the people around her like a missing puzzle piece that held everything else together, just as she held him together. He crossed the lawn towards the back of the house, leaning down to pluck a forget-me-not before he strode up to Adele's window.

He was already soaked to the bone, but that didn't matter; all that mattered was the woman he loved in the room just above his head. With a deep breath, he prepared for what could be the most important conversation in his life.

*Adele?*  
He felt her stirring from a light sleep on the other end of the link. *Adam?* Confusion, then surprise. *Adam! What is it?* She was alarmed.

He laughed softly. *Come out to your balcony.*

He felt her pause, wary. *Why?*

*Just come.*

He waited impatiently for her. Within the minute she came out, breathless, wearing a white nightgown, and Adam swallowed as the rain began to soak her, too.

"Adam!" Her pleasure at seeing him warmed him.

"Hi there," Adam called pleasantly, as if he had just bumped into her on the street rather than sneaking to her house in the middle of the night and calling her out onto her balcony in the pouring rain. "I just came because I forgot to give you a few things."

"Oh, really?" she chuckled, going along with his game. "Like what?" She eyed him suspiciously, and he hid the flower behind his back.

"Come down and I'll show you. Just jump—I'll catch you."

She hesitated just a moment before she swung her legs over the balcony railing and leapt towards his waiting arms. Using Craft to steady her decent, he caught her gently, and they stared at each other for a few breathless moments.

He searched her face, trying to memorize every beautiful detail: long hair that stuck to her spectral face and clung to her back; bright skin that glowed in the moonlight, making her look more vision than real. She seemed untouchable in her perfection, and yet as he stood, holding her, she had never felt more physical. He almost gave up and kissed her right there, but carefully swallowed and set her on her feet.

Putting on a grin, he held out the small blue flower and said the words he had rehearsed. "I wanted to give you this: it's a forget-me-not, because I never want you to forget about me." With an entreating look, he watched the turbulent emotion in her eyes as she stepped forward and accepted the flower.

"Adam…"

He held his hand to her lips, rubbing them when he found them to be surprisingly soft and supple. He was just as robbed for words as she, having not gotten this far in his planning. Mother Night, he loved her, and he wanted with everything in him to show her how he felt.

Without thinking, he rushed at her as passion took over; slamming a hand against the house, he leaned towards, her but stopped there. She rose to meet him but paused at the last moment, putting a hand on his chest; glazed eyes met his intensely before she pressed their lips together and he took them into oblivion. He kissed her with all the love that he felt for her, with desperation and longing and fierce joy. His hand reached for her but did not touch, fingers outstretched before he gave in and wrapped a possessive hand around her waist, pressing her closer to him.

They spun together, lost yet never more found as they kissed. Eventually, he pulled away, breathing harsh, his glassy eyes looking deeply into hers. She looked stunned and completely stunning, and they were both panting, faces mere inches apart searching one another's eyes. He finally brushed his lips lightly against hers and pulled away.

"I wanted to give you that before I left," he said, his voice husky. Waiting for no reply, he turned and walked away before he could say any more.


	5. Chapter 5

Finally, here is Chapter 5! I'm sorry about not posting, but the first half of the summer is proving to be a bit more fun-filled than I'd anticipated. But never fear! I've been working extra hard to catch up. I'm anticipating the release of the next few chapters very soon. Stick with it, please, and give me reviews! Thank you to my wonderful beta reader, The Diamond Sorceress, for editing my work.

Also, another note, I've changed the Province "Dandornna" to "Amasca." (It's where Jacquelline comes from.) I decided I had too many places with "D" names and I really liked how Amasca sounded. I've added a little guide in my profile to help keep track of provinces and cities.

**~Chapter 5~**

**1/Delacova**

Delphine Ashlyn gave her home a final glance in the first light of a frosty, early winter morning. It looked like a cozy gingerbread house, all dusted with a light layer of powdered sugar. Even though she knew it would disappear when the sun rose, it was still a pleasant image. She sighed wistfully and waved goodbye to her parents, who had braved the chilly air to wish her a safe trip, just as they had a few weeks ago for Adele.

Winter was setting its fangs into her home village with tenacious ferocity this year. But the sprawling cold was seeping more than just physical warmth from the place: it seemed Delacova missed her sister-Queen just as much as she did, for the land seemed to be crying. It was as though the land was reaching out with hungry arms, like it was being starved. Without a Queen's loving touch to maintain it, in many places the land would wither, which is why the Queens who ruled the Districts and Provinces made trips throughout their territories to speak with the land. The presence of the Blood living on the land would be sufficient to maintain the balance—for the most part, but Delacova still had Lady Claude, and still the life seemed to be sucked from the land. It was neither visible or tangible, but something was definitely wrong.

The fact that the Fall Festival had been just over two months before—when the Blood had given their best back to the land—disturbed Delphine as much as it hurt her. If the power that was supposed to maintain the land for a year was gone halfway through winter, how could it possibly survive? Had their offering this year possibly been so pitiful? Shame filled Delphine as she looked about her home village.

Whatever it was, its effects were apparent, and with Adele gone, all her friends were leaving in haste to get away from the place seemingly bleached of happiness. She looked back up at the Ashlyn manor and only saw a cold, frozen building staring back at her.

She shivered at the thought. Had being in this place affected her this much? Delphine had always taken her sister's happy attitude for granted, but now that Adele was gone, she was glad to be leaving herself. Besides, she wouldn't be of much use if she didn't complete her training before Adele set up her court, and there was no way Delphine was going to miss out on being in the Territory Queen's court. Decided, Delphine turned away from the frozen gingerbread house of her childhood and towards her future.

**2/Idana**

"Don't be nervous, you'll do fine."

Khevin had repeated the same line every hour the whole ride, and it still didn't make Adam feel better. Sure, it was an honor being asked to train in the secretive village of Tawnar, but now that he was actually on his way, Khevin's tribe and its legends made him nervous. He glanced at the tribal tattoo that encircled Khevin's neck. It still looked out of place to Adam, since Khevin had gotten it as a rite of passage upon completion of his training. It was an important mark in Tawnar, the mark of a fully mature male. Adam just hoped _he_ wouldn't have to get one there when he completed his training, if he survived it.

"Yeah, I mean they've accepted me, and they've never even met me yet. I think I've already passed." Adam gave his friend a grin. When it wasn't returned, he stopped to study his friend. "Why did Tawnar offer to take me in anyway, Khevin?"

Khevin took a deep breath and said, "Because Lady Jesiah had a vision of you." The heavily spoken words were completely alien to Adam's ears.

"Come again?"

"Lady Jesiah is the Lady of Tawnar, a gifted Black Widow." Which meant she was the ruler of the tribal village, the final law of their people. Khevin's wise grey eyes seemed weighed down with whatever knowledge he possessed. Adam felt his stomach clench nervously, but he remained silent.

"Do you remember when I left Delacova five years ago?" Adam nodded silently—how could he forget the day his world had been turned upside down? "An important Black Widow had a vision of Tirrador's future, one that will affect us all."

Fear coiled in Adam's stomach like a tangible beast and snarled. He felt his primal instincts rise gracefully as he watched Khevin's grim face.

"What did she see?" he asked in a deceptively soft voice.

"Tirrador in ten years," Khevin whispered as he lowered his head, closing his eyes. Adam just waited, unmoving and completely silent. Khevin shook his head. "It's horrible, Adam. Things went from this—" he gestured around them, "—to that in only ten years. I don't understand how or when it all went so terribly wrong, but everyone is starting to feel a change." Khevin leaned towards him, and Adam found himself leaning in as well.

"There are stories of vicious murders: not just brawls or accidents but cold-blooded killings that reveal a cruel nature behind them." Khevin closed his eyes. "More of them then occur naturally. There is someone behind these, someone quietly trying to eliminate people.

"Things are starting to change, starting to move already, and we are virtually powerless to stop it. It's as if we were looking around, waiting for it to happen, only for someone to come up behind us and pull the rug from right under our feet."

The beast in Adam's belly snarled in defiance, thinking of Ivy. She was so young, so sweet and trusting. "Khevin," he said softly, fearing raising his voice would break his best friend's musing, "what is Tirrador like in ten years?"

Khevin looked up at Adam, his face a mask of pain. "It's all wrong, Adam." He sat up now. "I don't know all the details, but we know it was done quickly and viciously. Those who were the strongest opponents were eliminated first." Adele's smiling face flashed in Adam's mind—there would be no doubt that she would be a primary target. "Freak accidents, Virgin Nights that 'went wrong,' strong witches broken too young before they could recognize their full potential. Males that were deemed 'too dangerous to be free' were forced to wear the Ring of Obedience. Fear became a rampant thing that turned the Blood on itself, made honest people lash out in defense only to damage, while the real culprit pulled the strings from behind."

Adam scoffed, "As if they could control me with one of those toys," but Khevin just looked at him.

"And then a war broke out." His dark skin turned ashen. "The Blood couldn't stand idle against this invisible threat any longer. They turned on their leaders, the suspected cause of the problem. Only they weren't the problem; someone else was hiding in the shadows controlling it all while the honest Blood slaughtered each other. By the time the real war started, when they finally showed themselves, everyone who had or could have opposed them was already gone." Adam felt a pang of loss, despite knowing Adele was safe.

"The Blood had crippled themselves. Anyone who they hadn't gotten rid of before the fighting was killed. There were tremendous casualties on each side, I'd say about a fourth of Tirrador's population wiped out. The strongest and the best of the Blood, the ones who could rebuild and rally us, just gone." Khevin's face twisted in pain. "I saw it, I saw their faces…" His grey eyes flickered to Adam's face guiltily. "There was no one left to really oppose them, and then they started killing the women…"

With a roar, Adam jumped from his seat, riding the killing edge hard. His every instinct screamed at him to protect, to stop it. His hands curled into fists, the Green Jewel at his chest glowing with power, vision doused in red. Alarmed, Khevin rose and put a firm hand on Adam's shoulder.

"Rein it in, Prince. You'll get your chance to stop it." Khevin's soothing voice, the man he had trusted his whole life, brought him back from the edge. A few minutes later, he sat down.

"Why?" Adam's voice cracked with emotion, but it was all he could say, all he could think. Khevin looked down, as if he were ashamed or disgusted; when he spoke, his voice was bitter.

"Blood Females hold our society together, Adam," he answered, his voice soft with repressed rage. "Blood males crave the closeness of a Jeweled female; they have in them a need to serve that is so deeply rooted none dispute it. Females have a connection with the land, and the Blood need that connection to stay true to what they are." Khevin looked up at Adam, tears of rage and sadness filling his eyes as he added, "Without them, the males are not a threat; the Blood cannot exist as it does. So they slaughtered the Blood Females who opposed them." Blind hatred rose up in Adam, but he pulled back hard.

"So most of them, then?" Khevin nodded gravely, and the two sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Who did this?" Khevin shook his head. "We haven't been able to find out. A piece of the puzzle is missing. We just keep getting the same message when we try: 'the time is not right yet,' and damn it all it's starting from right beneath our noses!" he yelled, betraying one of his rare moments of anger.

Adam let Khevin burn off his frustration in silence for a few more minutes. "So, what do I have to do with this?"

Khevin looked up, his eyes looked weary, like a man who had lived a full lifetime of one of the long-lived races and had seen only misery. With a small smile, he replied, "All we were told was that a Green Prince and an Ashlyn Lady would save Tirrador's heart."

**3/Trisor**

There was a certain electric buzz about the air as Delphine walked to her room after a lesson. Everyone seemed nervous, jittery. Tension ran high, but no one was talking. Even more confusing, she had greeted a visiting witch this morning, and the woman had actually shivered, as if just by speaking to her Delphine had threatened her. She suppressed a growl. Never had she done harm to an innocent, and all of a sudden people were afraid of her? Was it because she was here, amongst other Black Widows like herself? Did people really think that Black Widows would actually harm someone just for looking at them? Well, if that was the way the Blood from the capital thought, then maybe she should give them something to fear. A hand touched her shoulder, and Delphine whirled, snarling.

"Retract your claws, darling. I only came to see if you wanted to get out of here for a bit," Gwen said sardonically, one eyebrow raised at Delphine's hostility. "But if you're more in the mood for a pissing match, we could always do that instead."

A delighted grin spread across Delphine's face. Gwen wasn't the easiest person to like, in love with her own wit and generally unemotional. Fortunately, Delphine was a good balance for her, and over the last few months, the two had formed a bond, making a dangerous match. Gwen's personality was like the icing on Delphine's cake: she could take and dish out the cruelest jokes Delphine could muster, and she always kept a level head, even when Delphine couldn't.

"You know the offer always stands," she said in her slow, easy tone. Gwen had long, straight black hair, which made her pallid skin look even more ghostlike. She had heavy-lidded, large doe eyes, downturned at the corners and today had adorned herself with black lipstick and a long-sleeved black sweater and dark trousers. Delphine took in her appearance with a raised eyebrow.

"You look as depressing as ever." She was rewarded with a sharp smile from Gwen.

"Only for you, darling." Delphine found herself mirroring Gwen's smile.

They stared at each other before Delphine huffed and laughed. "Sorry, I'm just a bit edgy today. Actually, everyone seems to be a little…prickly."

"Yeah, another one's been found."

"Another what?"

"Another person murdered, supposedly by an 'unstable Sister of the hourglass.'" She snorted. "It's complete horse crap. Someone is trying to frame us for their dirty work, so don't be surprised if you start getting the cold shoulder from your friends." Her tone was icy, brown eyes were filled with a cold rage. But underneath that rage was pain that ran deep: Gwen had probably been shunned by more than a few people because of her apprenticeship in the Hourglass Coven, but had chosen to continue anyway, which was more than could be said for some.

Black Widows had always been treated with respect and caution by the Blood because of their power, but to be shunned altogether because of it? Black Widows were an important part of Blood society, often leaders and guides, their visions important messages from the Darkness. Losing that connection would cut the Blood off from an important influence. Something was wrong with this picture, and it made Delphine extremely uneasy.

She broke the silence by looping her arm through Gwen's and steering them towards the stairs, hoping the gesture would warm the chill in her friend. "Let's go out to the gardens. I need some fresh air."

A relaxing walk through the gardens later, Delphine and Gwen found themselves sitting on a lightly frosted bench in the gardens, watching the people pass.

"Come now, Gwen, don't hold out on me." Delphine laughed as she gave her a playful push. "Tell me if there's a special man in your life." Her laugh fell short at the reserved expression on Gwen's face; then a thought occurred, and she slanted a look at Gwen. "Oh, there_ is_ someone" she said, pushing herself closer to interrogate. "Go on then, who is it? What's he like?"

Gwen's face was that of a statue. "There never was one, and there never will be. Males are not welcomed into the Coven for a reason; they bring only pain and anger."

Delphine's eyebrows rose. "This is a new development. Gwen, a male-hater!" She laughed openly, slapping her leg. "I don't blame you, really. Males are a beastly sex, and we should do away with the lot of them." She made a slashing motion with her hand. "Clean slate. Then, of course, there'd be the matter of figuring out how to continue our existence, but we'd get to that later, I suppose." The two fell to giggling hysterics before the rustling of a bush startled them. Two pairs of cautious eyes watched as a young male pushed through a narrow space through the bushes.

The three of them stared at each other for a moment before Gwen elbowed Delphine in the ribs and whispered, "There's one of the hateful creatures now. You should introduce yourself before it comes to its senses and eats us alive." She sniggered but got no response, as Delphine had risen to her feet, much to Gwen's astonishment.

"Hold my spot, won't you, Gwen?" Her tone was confident, eyes sparkling with feral delight as she marched up to the startled male. "Hello, my name is Delphine Ashlyn. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Her smile was all daggers as she thrust her hand out, palm down, daring him to turn around and leave her standing there with her hand extended.

The youth blinked at her, licked his lips, and replied, "It is…wonderful to meet you, Lady Ashlyn. I am Vincent Raven." He returned her gesture by taking her hand and, surprisingly, kissed it. He paused a moment, unsure how to proceed. Only taken aback for a moment, Delphine swept into the lead, capturing one of Vincent's hands in hers and locking them together.

"Let's go for a walk, shall we? It's a lovely day." Stunned into silence, Vincent feebly followed, and Delphine caught Gwen's sharp eye.

*Where are you going?*

*Around,* she said simply. *He seems interesting*

*Right, well, I'll be studying in my room.* A pause, then in a humorous tone she added, *Should he make any attempt on your life or otherwise, you'll know where to find me.*

*Of course.* Nothing but a sigh before their link broke, and Delphine knew her friend had departed for the manor house.

"So let me get this straight," Delphine said as they walked together through the gardens, hands still linked. "You are Lord Vincent Raven, a member of the Raven family, who has lived in Trisor and has served as well as been a part of the Hourglass Coven for centuries, right?" Her brown eyes darted to Vincent's black ones for approval. When she got a faint nod, she continued, "And most of the females in your family are Black Widows, while those not gifted with the Widow's Craft serve the Coven alongside the males?"

She was rewarded with the ghost of a smile from her companion. "Yes, I serve the Hourglass Coven…and learn from them, too."

Delphine's head shot up in surprise as she looked over him, reassessing his psychic scent. "But you're not a…"

"Black Widow? Yes, I know. But it has been in my family for so long, most of us have become so."

"But…there has never been a _male_ Black Widow before," Delphine blurted before recognizing the rudeness of her remark and blushing.

Vincent gave her a sad smile. "Yes, I know that as well. Pity, if only I had been born a woman…still, I do have some knowledge of the Craft, through training with my sisters and witches from the Coven." He looked at the shock on Delphine's face and laughed. "Are you so disturbed that a member of the opposite sex can have knowledge of your sacred Craft?"

She recovered herself enough to sputter a reply. "N-no, it's just that I had never heard of it. It…makes sense though." Her eyes cleared, and she looked straight at Vincent, taking in his tall physique, marking him around Chris' age, though not as built. Still, he was very handsome, with his long, straight jaw line and unique features: his brown hair and pale skin seemed different from Gwen's coloring, somehow, like some of his color had been drained, taking just a bit of the pigment from his skin, his hair, his eyes, and even his clothes with it. Delphine found it rather intriguing, a mystery which she had yet to unravel. _Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we?  
_

They walked leisurely through the gardens, ignoring everyone and everything else as they talked, though it was mostly Delphine talking and Vincent listening. He didn't make her feel like she was talking too much; rather, he seemed like he was genuinely interested. He didn't make her feel like she was just an accessory, someone that had to be accepted just because she was Adele's little sister. It wasn't that she didn't love her sister, and she didn't pretend to be jealous of the amount of attention Adele warranted, but it was nice to be liked for herself for once. Delphine knew she rubbed most people the wrong way.

Vincent was more passive, someone who disliked the spotlight and would rather fade into the background than hold center stage. He was secretive, withholding much about his personal life, feelings, and opinions, which intrigued Delphine more. It made him rather like a particularly hard puzzle she had to crack. It was thrilling being with him, trying to coerce him into talking.

"Adele really is a bit of a priss, even if she pretends like she doesn't like getting all prettied up, I know she enjoys looking her best sometimes and getting all that attention." A gentle smile tugged at her lips as she thought about her sister. She looked at Vincent curiously. "Do you have any siblings?"

"You keep talking about Adele," he said, changing the subject abruptly, "You must be very close."

"Yeah, she really gets me, I guess." Delphine paused, then returned to her earlier, unanswered question. "So what's your family like?" _And the ball is right back in your court.  
_

He smiled. "My family? Well, I have an older sister." He hesitated, then added, "She's…a piece of work."

"What do you mean?"

"Spoiled and haughty as you please, but gifted."

"So you mean-"

"Yes, a Black Widow, fully trained. She's much older than I; I don't really know her well—she didn't live with us except for when I was little. "She—" he laughed softly and shook his head. "Never mind."

Delphine didn't press him: opening up to people must be hard for him. They walked in companionable silence for a while longer, and she found that she even enjoyed his company when neither of them were speaking. It was…oddly comforting but made her slightly uneasy at the same time. Nervous, she ducked out when the chance arose, breaking away as they neared the manor house and turning around to face him.

"Well, this is my stop."

He blinked, then nodded. "Right then, I'll…well, I'll see you later, I suppose." She felt inwardly pleased with herself, seeing him stumble over his words. It sent a giddy feeling of pleasure tickling up her stomach.

"Yes, perhaps." Despite what she was feeling inside, she managed to only let a tiny smile reach her lips. Better to play the coy maiden then the eager puppy. Still, she couldn't stop herself as her hand rose and lingered on his cheek. She also could not help the butterflies that flared in her stomach at his surprise—and pleasure—at her touch. It was all she could do to turn away and get her feet moving in the direction of the house.

**4/Amasca**

His life had settled into a kind of routine now. Chris woke up before the break of dawn to the blaring of a horn, piercing the frosty air of the Veranthis Mountains. All of the trainees were herded onto the snow-covered training grounds to do morning warm-ups. Every desperate bit of air he inhaled as he went through the exercise went down his throat like a thousand knives.

No winter in Delacova, no matter how harsh, could prepare him for life here, in the Veranthis Mountains, the Northernmost part of Tirrador. Even though the rest of the Territory was just starting to experience their first snowfall, the mountains were already blanketed with the wet stuff. He snorted—how could he have ever thought of snow as beautiful? It just made all their lives miserable here: it seeped into every bit of clothing and melted, leaving you permanently wet, no matter how tightly you wrapped yourself. The snow seemed to seep into every fiber of your being, sipping every bit of heat until it felt like you could never be warm ever again.

They were worked hard until they began to finally get warm from the exercise, and just when the sweat was starting to chill they would go inside for breakfast. The rest of the day would follow like clockwork. Chris relished the grueling physical work; it took his every bit of concentration and required him to remain constantly alert. There was no time to think about home, his friends, or his childhood love.

In the weeks he had been here, in the little time he had to himself to think, he had realized that's exactly what his love for Adele had been. It was just his Warlord Prince instincts reacting to an important Queen, nothing more. Of course, as one of his closest friends he cared about Adele, but that insane need, that instinct that screamed at him to protect, cherish, keep away, was his inner Warlord Prince craving closeness with his Queen.

_But isn't that _part_ of me? _

He growled in frustration as his mind took another confusing loop. A youth with a violent shock of blonde hair grinned at him, revealing pointed eyeteeth like a canine's.

"Something wrong, Deveraux?" He started to lower his bladed stick, obviously amused at Chris' lack of concentration: it was just such a rare thing. Chris' intense brown eyes focused on the grip slackening on the stick and saw his opportunity. With three lightning-fast moves he had tossed his opponent's weapon aside and rendered him harmless. The frost-cold blade against his skin made the youth shiver. Chris smiled at him with the same sentiment.

"Just because your enemy looks distracted does not mean he is."

The youth raised his eyebrows, then gave the Warlord Prince another doggish grin. "So defensive," he said as he gently nudged the blade away from his throat. "But now the question is, what could have the stone-cold, unshakable Prince Christopher Deveraux distracted, even for a moment?"

Chris regarded him with hard brown eyes, then sighed, defeated by tenacity. "A girl back home." He paused. _Well, I haven't made many friends. I should start trying instead of pushing them away. _"…something you would know nothing about, eh, Renard?" It felt good to wear that arrogant smile again.

"That's Prince Blaise Renard to you, Chris." Chris narrowed his eyes, then sighed. Okay, maybe he had deserved that one.

Slapping on his most nefarious smile, he grabbed Blaise's shoulder and steered them towards the mess hall. "Seriously, I bet you drove the guys back home nuts. Poor bastards, a handsome dog like you must have had them drooling all over themselves."

The Summer-sky Jewel on Blaise's' chest flashed before the Prince hid his temper from the much more volatile Warlord Prince. "Oh yeah, it was terrible." He eyed Chris in a way he hoped never to be eyed by another man again. "I can tell you about it…if you want." So, that's how a male of a lower caste got even without resorting to violence. It was effective, and yet…Chris tried to retract his arm from around Blaise's' shoulder, only to find it held firmly in place.

Chris looked up to see Blaise giving him another doggish grin. "Come on, let's talk more about this girl problem of yours in the mess hall." Without even meaning to, Chris found himself returning the smile.

**5/Delleva**

Christine Amoria stepped out of her Grandmother's townhouse onto the bustling streets of Delleva and stretched, opening her arms to the world. The capital of Tirrador was covered in a light blanket of snow from last night. Fresh and unsullied, it made her home look like a world covered in sugar. She breathed in the crisp air and felt a prickle in her lungs.

"Yes, I'm sure it's lovely. Now step aside to the rest of us can escape." An amused female voice came from behind her.

Smiling, Christine stepped elegantly to the side, allowing Adele onto the terrace alongside her, closely followed by Marius. "Surely my Grandmother can't be _that_ bad." Her words rose as of air from her mouth. She watched it curl and rise until it disappeared. They were attending a party tonight, and the Lady Amoria had decided that it was going to be a test or something of that nature for the important intended Queens. Thus, the whole household had been thrown into a tizzy in an attempt to appease her Grandmother.

"Oh, she's nothing compared to my mother," Adele admitted, looking back at the house. "Still, she's got a bit more…gusto then a woman of her age _should_ have."

Christine sighed while Marius choked on a snicker. "Yes, well, that's why we are 'taking a bit of a walk' to escape all the…excitement." She threw Marius a look. "Unless, of course, you would like to assist Lady Amoria in her preparations?" Her innocent tone managed to wipe the smile off Marius' face and replace it with a sufficiently stoic one. "Right then, let's get moving, shall we?"

She turned with a flourish, lifting her dress as she descended the steps, her long green hair bouncing with each step. Adele followed at her heels, and their escort closed in dutifully.

"Bookstore first, then?" Christine asked. She looked sideways at Adele, and they shared an understanding smile.

"Oh yes, I just finished the last of our books," Adele said.

"Our books?" Marius sputtered.

"Adele and I share our books. It's more economical then buying one for each of us." She grinned as she turned to look back at him. "Besides, we can afford twice as many that way."

It could have been her imagination, but it looked like he had just wobbled a bit. "T-twice as many?" he asked weakly. "Christine, I've seen your library. There are hundreds of books…" She just grinned wider, and he paled and looked at Adele, who wore an identical expression. "Then you have…"

"Just as many."

"Mother Night," he mumbled. "How do you two manage to get any of your schooling done, or serve the court or…" They just looked at him and he shook his head. "Never mind, I don't want to know."

"Right," Christine said as she turned purposefully forward again. "The bookstore it is, then."

* * *

The door chimed pleasantly as they stepped into the bookstore: the proprietor looked up and smiled brilliantly at them, "Aye, if it isn't my favorite Ladies!" He waved a few books in the air. "I've got the next few books for those series you asked for. Feel free to look around, though!"

Christine nodded, grinning. She could almost see him salivating at the sight of them. The rent for this month would be secure now that they had arrived. They assaulted the bookshelves, ready for a long search. Adele wandered away to her usual section with a casual wave. Marius had stayed with Christine, his arms crossed, but the expression in his brown eyes was the softness of an amused brother. A few bright blonde locks fell in front of his eyes. Christine felt a twinge she couldn't place, but it was gone before she could put a finger on what it was and why it was there.

"Females really are enthralled with books like nothing else," he said as he laughed.

"There are a few things males could learn from books as well," she said softly.

A book, supported by Craft, floated up and settled in Marius' hand. He took it and she felt his mood change as he read the title. The amused expression disappeared, replaced with a softer one. She felt rather than saw this shift and realized how attuned she was to his moods. He looked down at her while she had her back turned, crouching down to look at the books on the lower shelves. Her hands stopped moving.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." Her voice was almost a whisper, spoken to the books. A strange feeling settled in her stomach as she thought of the title of the book, _A Guide to witches and their Mysteries; _She realized it was apprehension.

* * *

"So, Adele, tell me how your sister is doing." The three of them were settled at an outside table at their favorite café, their morning's "loot" vanished back to the mansion, awaiting their proper place on the bookshelves. The air was brisk, but not enough to deter them from the bustle of a city morning. _Besides, the snow won't last until the afternoon._ Christine thought sadly, looking at the already melting snow around them, then winced at the thought of flouncing through the slush to the party tonight in their dresses.

"She's doing well." Adele paused. "Almost too well, I think." A conspiratorial grin slid into place on Adele's lips as Christine delicately raised one eyebrow in question.

"Do explain."

"Apparently, she's met a young Warlord there who…takes her interest."

"May the Darkness help the poor fool," Marius muttered.

Christine threw back her head and laughed. "Living amongst the Hourglass Coven and still she manages to find a male!" Still chuckling, she lifted her coffee to her lips and took a sip. "So, what's he like, this Warlord who has managed to peak our dear Delphine's appetite—I mean interest." She grinned at Adele, who returned the gesture.

"She won't say, something about 'still cracking the puzzle.'"

"Doesn't she mean cracking the case?" Marius put in, looking slightly alarmed.

Adele frowned and shook her head. "No, she said cracking the puzzle."

Marius paled and sat back in his chair. "Mother Night." He cracked a grin and opened his mouth to say something else, but his smile faltered and his mouth snapped shut as he looked beyond Adele towards the street. Something strange flickered in his eyes as Christine watched him, something she did not recognize. He looked like he was about to stand when a surly voice spoke.

"Good morning, Lady Ashlyn, Lady Amoria."

Christine turned to see Jacquelline Desbois standing near their table. She had met the younger girl briefly during the ball in Delacova—the same ball that she had met Adele and her friends at. The three of them exchanged greetings.

She didn't know much about Jacquelline except that she was a Queen from Amasca, but all thoughts of the girl retreated from her mind when she saw the male accompanying Jacquelline. He was perhaps older than even Marius—but only just—tall… and with a start, she realized what his psychic scent was telling her: he was a Warlord Prince! A second later she was reeling. _A Warlord Prince at his mature strength who wears the Green! Hells fire, no wonder—  
_

She looked at Marius's strained expression. One of his duties of was to act as escort and protector for herself and Adele, an important job that he took very seriously, as both girls were strong Queens with potential. The sudden appearance of a powerful Warlord Prince had startled him and probably made him feel more than a little threatened. Her green eyes wandered to his neck, where his Summer-sky Jewel glowed with power waiting to be used. Purpose overtook her, and she smiled at Jacquelline.

"Lady Desbois, you have not introduced your companion to us," she said, looking at the tall male. He wore neat, tidy clothing that was obviously well tailored. Compared to Marius' more casual, relaxed dress, he looked like a tense pinafore doll, which of course made him more threatening. His skin was a few shades lighter than Jacquelline's olive color, though his hair was the same chocolate brown. His hair fell down to his shoulders, and he had a neat beard that covered his chin and trailed up his jaw line. His eyes were a lighter shade of brown, intense, and it took the supreme willpower of a Queen not to shiver under their gaze.

Jacquelline looked at the male then back at them, as if bored. "This is Prince Devan Desbois, my elder brother." The breath wheezed out of her. _Her brother? Mother Night! _

Devan gave them a low bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you all." His voice was just as stoic as his appearance. "However, I did not have the privilege of knowing your escort's name." Those cold eyes raked over Marius, sizing up another male, a threat. Something rose up in Christine, an irrational surge of anger and protective need. But she knew he needed to stand on his own—he would never forgive her if she stood in his way.

Marius' chin rose to meet the threat, even knowing he was outmatched. Bravery. Something fluttered in her stomach.

"Prince Marius Lefarve." His voice did not waver, and every inch of him said, 'I am not afraid of you, and I will stand against you if I must.'

Devan smiled at him and bowed his head slightly, acknowledging him. "Brother."

Christine felt the tense mood at the table shift and melt away. Her eyes slid to the ground and the melting snow. Maybe melting wasn't such a bad thing.

"So, Jacquelline, what brings you to the capital all the way from Amasca?" Adele had jumped headlong into the silence.

Only a twitch in Jacquelline's expression betrayed the annoyance at having her first name used. "We are here on behalf of the Lady Rosine." Christine recognized the name of Amasca's Province Queen.

"You serve Lady Rosine?" Adele asked, her expression showing nothing but pure interest, and Christine found herself envying her friend's skillful diplomacy. "What circle?"

"First."

Christine choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken. _First?_ She had heard Amasca had been ambitious with its youth and thrown a few elements of Protocol out, but to place a young girl in the First Circle of the Province Queen's Court for mere training seemed a bit excessive. The duties of the First Circle were strenuous on a fully trained adult and it required experience as well as a huge commitment to the Queen. Even she and Adele were only in the Second Circle, which was strenuous in itself.

Jacquelline did not seem fazed by their surprise. Rather, she looked a bit disdainful. "We are not squeamish about our duties. Our Queen keeps her most important members closest, and the time for rash action is upon us."

"I…cannot say that I agree with your Queen's decision, but it is hers to make." Adele seemed just as startled as she was. "I imagine you will be in the city for awhile, then?"

"Yes, we will be staying for a few weeks."

"Perhaps we will see each other, then."

The girl's face was hard and set as she surveyed Adele. "Perhaps," she finally agreed. "It was nice to see you all again. Until then, may the Darkness protect you." With a swirl of her skirts, she left them; Devan spared them a quick nod before heading off after his sister.

Christine let out her breath with a whoosh and sat back in her seat. "Well, that was…interesting."

"Yes. I knew Amasca was ambitious, but…to allow a fifteen-year-old girl into the Province Queen's First Circle, to have that much responsibility…" Adele shook her head. "They must be desperate."

Christine said nothing, just looked after the pair. As she did, one question filled her head, baffling her. Foreboding uncoiled in her stomach, leaving the Queen in her feeling uneasy.  
_Why?_


	6. Chapter 6

**~Chapter 6~**

**1/Tawnar**

She visited his dreams again that night. Since she had often done so, Adam welcomed the girl with the strawberry blonde hair with open arms. She ran to him and they embraced in a way that made his heart ache because he hadn't been able to hold her like that before he had left. He wouldn't allow himself to, for fear that he would get down on his knees and beg her to stay. Then Adele's grip on him was tighter, the need stronger. He responded with enthusiasm and looked down, needing to see into those beautiful blue orbs. Instead, cool lips pressed against his and he felt them sliding right back into his memory of that night.

Adele pressed against him in her rain-soaked nightgown as they kissed, the delicate flower in her fingers crushed in their passion. Adele forced her lips against his harder, demanding more that he was happy to give. But this was Adele; it wasn't like those other women who demanded, who thought they were entitled to everything he could offer because he was standing in front of them. It wasn't like that with her.

Abruptly, a snarl rose up in her throat, wanting more. Adele's nails dug into his chest. Adam gasped against her lips but dutifully pushed her back so she was trapped between him and the mansion. Still, she wanted more. So he gave into his passion a little and ran a cautious hand up her thigh. She pushed his face roughly away from hers. Their eyes searched each other desperately and she opened her mouth, perfect lips forming one word.

_"More."  
_

The word echoed over and over and over until he was drowning in it. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move or even think. Adam was completely trapped in it for what felt like an eternity before it finally started to fade. The whole dream faded until he couldn't remember what it was about. Then he didn't even care what is was about anymore. Why didn't he care? He couldn't remember, didn't care that he couldn't remember.

Then he woke up.

**2/Trisor**

Vincent Raven paced his small room, glancing every so often at his work table and the feeble attempts at recreating the illusion spell he had seen. The result made him curl his lip and grimace. He spun away quickly, walking the familiar line that he had been going back and forth along for the past ten minutes. A painful memory bubbled to the surface of his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut but the bubble burst and the full length of the memory came rushing back to him.

_"Sissy, teach me to make Craft spells." The enthusiastic voice of a young, pale boy filled the workroom. He adored the woman sitting alone at the table, and grinned at her as he bounded into a chair next to hers.  
_

_"I already do, Vincent." Matilda's voice was barely hiding the annoyance of having to put up with a much younger brother. _

_The boy shook his head. "No, teach me the _special_ ones you do." He leaned forward onto the table, his eyes transfixed on her latest project.  
_

_Matilda sighed gustily and turned to her younger brother, her arm blocking her work. "You're a male, Vincent. You can't learn it."  
_

_Pouting, the boy shook his head again, he looked like he was about to cry. "That's not what mama said, she said I could learn. Teach me, Tilly, teach me!"  
_

_"Hold out your right hand." The words were said in the snap of a command. As young as he was, he could not avoid obeying the will of an older, stronger female when she gave him a direct order. Vincent held out his right hand, his lower lip quivering, eyes huge.  
_

_Matilda looked at it, her dark eyes not searching for anything and her sneering expression showing that she did not expect to find anything. Her eyes lingered on his ring finger before she looked up to meet his eyes.  
_

_"You do not have the snake tooth, and you will never get the snake tooth, therefore you cannot learn." Her voice was harsh as her eyes bored into his. Then she turned with a dismissive huff and continued her work, ignoring the small boy still sitting there.  
_

_Tears spilled onto his cheeks as he stared at her back. "Why?"  
_

_She spun around and slapped him so quick he was stunned into silence. "Because, you miserable little boy, you're a male! You aren't worth a damn in this family, all you'll ever do that is ever worth doing is serving the Black Widows in this family for your whole pathetic life! It doesn't matter how strong you become or what you do. All your good for is serving witches and marrying a strong Black Widow and giving us strong Black Widow children. The sooner you that through your idiotic brain the better."  
_

_The boy couldn't say anything. He just sat there, staring openmouthed at his sister, his hand on the welts forming on his face from her nails.  
_

_"Now get out of my room and go do something else meaningless."  
_

Tears spilled down Vincent's cheeks even though his eyes were tightly closed. That memory was every bit as painful as it had been when he was ten years old. He wiped them away angrily. Vincent had always been fascinated with the Black Widow Craft, probably something in his blood. Ever since that day, he had stayed well away from his older sister, always afraid to bring her wrath down upon him. Vincent strove with everything in him to bring honor to his family, to make them proud that he could be more than a stud to them. But his elder sister's prediction had been true; he was not a Black Widow, and no male had ever become a Black Widow through training alone.

Still, he had always tried. Vincent tried to learn from the snippets of what he had seen from the Black Widows, what he could glean from observing and listening closely to them. But no matter how much he ever learned, they would never accept him as one of them. The bitterness of the truth stung him anew and he turned and sent a blast of Opal power at his pathetic project. _What a sorry excuse of a life.  
_

A quiet knock at his door sent him spinning around, a wild look in his eyes. He froze. There she stood in the doorway, the very last person he wanted to see this display. Delphine. She stood, her mouth slightly open, her hand still hovering in the air next to the open door. _She must have knocked,_ he thought idly. Vincent winced, feeling more vulnerable than he had ever had in his whole life. He was breathing raggedly, his chest heaving, eyes were swollen from tears and red around the edges. Those dark eyes sought out her brown ones helplessly, knowing he was at her mercy. Delphine took one look up and down him and shut her mouth with a snap. She stepped into the room and neatly closed the door, her back still to him, waiting for him to compose himself a bit more.

Vincent straightened up, wiped his nose and his eyes a bit better, and took a few deep breaths. Over the last month, he and Delphine had been getting to know one another as they dated casually. Slowly, he had begun to let himself open up to her like he hadn't done for anyone since he was a child. He didn't care if this was all his family wanted out of them, for the first time he wasn't just thinking for his family. He actually cared for Delphine because of who she was, _he_ wanted to be around her. Vincent liked that she was sassy and smart, that she didn't apologize for who or what she was. Delphine didn't gloat about being part of an aristo family, in fact she'd had said she was "ashamed to be one of those prissy ninnies" when he had asked her about it. And he especially liked that she didn't brag about her sister, but she _was_ proud of her, and it was obvious she loved Adele.

No, he liked Delphine for who she was and if his family didn't like her for her attitude, her family, or her friends, they could kiss his ass.

She turned around then, and her eyes held concern, something he had never seen from her.

"Vincent." Delphine rushed to him and embraced him. But as they hugged her eyes were drawn to the table where his ruined work lay in charred pieces. She slid from his arms and walked over to the table, bending to pick one of the pieces up.

"No!" He lunged after her, but not in time to stop her from picking up a piece of the web and turning to him, a surprised look on her face.

You are…practicing Black Widow Craft?" She asked, clearly astounded. He fought to hide his shame, but said nothing. Then her surprise was wiped away as a mischievous grin stole across her face. "You tricky, tricky male!" He winced, expecting her to yell at him and condemn him for trying to practice Craft exclusively for females.

"You should have told me, I could have helped you."

Not the response he had been expecting.

Vincent looked up at her, surprised. She still had that same grin, which meant she was absolutely serious. Vincent looked around the room for inspiration for a response, but found none. Finally, he settled on just looking at her.

"I'm..sorry?"

"Damn right you are." She growled as she straightened up and started taking a closer look at what was left of his work. "I think I see what you were trying to do. You actually did most of it right except for this part here. She pointed to a single strand. Delphine looked up at him, far too immersed in what she was doing to notice his distress. "You need a new table," she said in a bland voice.

Vincent stared at her for a moment, and began to laugh.

**3/Delleva**

Lady Adele Ashlyn walked down the hallway towards her Queen's chambers, her mind clouded with the troubles of the court. Unexplained deaths, whispers of murderous Black Widows, males and witches gone rogue. The joy of spring was stained with the blood of the innocent and guilty alike, murders that shook Tirrador's capital and sent fear into the hearts of the people like they had not known for centuries. This wasn't just your average killing spree, either, the deaths that occurred a few times a week were too strategic, too crippling in their damage to the communities. There was talk of ending the Hourglass Coven, of putting a Ring of Honor around the organs of stronger males so that they may "learn the laws of the Blood in a safe manner for all."

Adele's worry deepened more at this then any of the other reports. What had the Blood become? True, the danger surrounding them had become more apparent when a male in the First Circle of Lady Nevelle's court had been found murdered, but to jump at shadows and start blaming each other was just plain stupid. No, Adele would go to her Lady and tell her that they could not punish those that they had no evidence against. Her face reddened, remembering that just a few months ago, her deepest worry had been what she would wear to a party and if a man she had dated for less than a month still cared about her. All the silly things she had worried about then paled in comparison to this, and what she had to do. Adele took a deep breath. This was what her training was about; knowing what it meant to rule and the difficult decisions that came along with it, and taking responsibility for them. Still, knowing this did not make her feel better, it just made her feel weary and foolish.

As she steeled herself to go against her Queen, Adele felt an unsettling dread settle in her stomach. There was something much more wicked then countless murders going on behind all this; there would be worse to come. And that was the scariest thing of all.

**4/Tawnar**

Adam woke screaming. He was sitting up, arms outstretched to hold away an invisible attacker. Now he looked at his hands in puzzlement, still breathing heavily, with a layer of sweat glistening on his exposed chest. He scanned his room quickly—just as Khevin had taught him—to search for a threat. When Adam found nothing, he relaxed a bit and lowered his hands, but he couldn't shake that nagging feeling that something was horribly wrong. It ate away inside of him and scraped against his temper until he was just a heartbeat away from the killing edge. It felt like he needed to do something, to protect himself from something, only he couldn't remember what it was.

He swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stood up, surveying himself in the mirror across the room. His muscles had gotten a bit bigger in the months since he had come here, but it was the hidden things, the skill one could not see, that had truly been perfected in his time in Tawnar. He studied himself in the mirror again: the new sharpness of his eyes that marked a predator, the new grace in his movements. He was changing in every way it seemed. The only problem was, he wasn't sure if he liked the man he saw in the mirror.

With a sigh, Adam sat heavily on the bed and put his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his orange-blonde hair. Adele's birthday was in a month. His heart ached. Not a single letter in all this time, and no answer to his; four months of silence. He had given her time, maybe she was just busy, perhaps with her new friends and too preoccupied to bother with a fleeting romance. Only the romance hadn't just been fleeting for him. He had fallen love with Adele. At the same time, he couldn't push away the feeling that she had just forgotten about him, that she had only wanted him for the moment and then dumped him as soon as they were apart.

No, Adele was different than those bloodthirsty wolves who had only wanted him for his status.

_Then what was she doing?_ She was a Queen who didn't have as much raw power as he, who needed a strong male protector. _I wanted to be that protector. I would have let her use me, I still will.  
_

_Would you?  
_

He didn't have an answer. In truth, he was bitter and hurt by Adele's silence. She had always wanted something from him: wanted him to dance with her, to take her places, to follow her around like a little trained puppy at her beckoned call, to put up with her family and friends. And then she had asked the hardest thing of all: to let her leave and sit around waiting for her until she was finished playing with other males and felt like coming back for him.

The thought chilled his blood as he stood up and began dressing with slow grace, staring into his own glazed eyes in the mirror. He thought she had been different from the others, but maybe he had been wrong.

**5/Delacova**

As the carriage jolted and bumped along an all too familiar road from the landing web, Adele squeezed Christine's hand for strength for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She looked down at her friend's pale hand and vaguely wondered why it was not purpled with bruises. As she glanced out the window and gasped in happiness as she saw Delacova come into view. Her relief at seeing her home filled the empty places in her heart that had formed over the last few months. Adele stuck her head out the window as they rolled through the village, drinking in all the sights of her hometown as they made their way to the Ashlyn Manor. It was her birthday; there was no room for sadness in her heart today.

They pulled up to the manor and the front door was all but blasted off its hinges as Jocelyn came tearing out of the house, shrieking. Taylor came down the steps after her, his hands in his pockets and a relaxed grin on his face. Adele flung the carriage door open and ran into her mother's arms. The two women squealed and cried as they embraced. "Oh, Adele, I've missed you so much, darling."

"I've missed you too, Mom," she said when they finally detached themselves. Next she embraced her father and re-introductions all around were made. The group went into the house to await the rest of the guests.

Not more than an hour later, the grinding of carriage wheels sounded and it took all of Adele's willpower to keep from shoving Winston out of the way to open the door herself. She did, however, stay in her seat in the sitting room until the door opened and a surly voice said, "Out of my way, Winston, where is my sister?" With a squeal, Adele popped up out of her seat and ran for the entryway. The girls embraced in a hug, though it had only been a month since they had seen each other.

"Why haven't you written?" Her sister's voice was irritable as their hug broke. "I was beginning to think you had been a victim of those attacks. Because surely you wouldn't _dare_ not write your little sister for a whole month without a good reason."

Adele's face reddened, due both to the fact that she _had_ been too busy with the attacks to write her sister, and their mother had arrived in the room to greet her youngest daughter and had heard the comment. The last thing her mother needed was to have to worry about them being involved in the attacks. "I-"

"Come here, Delphine!" Jocelyn had, thankfully, pretended not to hear Delphine's comment and instead embraced her youngest daughter. As the two talked quietly, Adele went to introduce herself to Delphine's companion, Vincent. He was a nice enough boy, about her age, and a rebel to be sure; just the dark sort of boy Delphine would go for. He looked slightly nervous as he stood in the entryway.

"Don't worry," Adele said, "They'll love you. Just act natural." She pictured dark Vincent on her parents sitting room couch, and suddenly the memory of Adam sitting there in the very same place pushed its way into her mind. It felt like a talon had closed over her heart. _Forget about it, he doesn't want you._ Tears pricked at her eyes and she fought hard to keep them down.

"Adele, are you okay?" Worry and fear was sharp in Vincent's voice.

"I'm fine," she lied and turned away until she could control herself.

Seeing Delphine with Vincent was that much harder because her little sister had managed to find someone in the time they were away, while Adele had made silly excuses to avoid any boy who had expressed an interest in her. She had pushed everyone with promise away because even though they had said their relationship was on hold until they completed their training, Adele was still in love with Adam, and it felt like betraying him if she saw anybody else. But he hadn't written her, hadn't answered her letters in all this time.

In truth, Adele was just a bit jealous that Delphine and Vincent could see each other almost every day and yet Adam was so far away. She was glad for them, but seeing them together and so happy pulled at her heart in an incredibly painful way. Today was the last chance, the last hope she had in their relationship. A week ago Adele had sent a letter to Adam, inviting him to this party. If he didn't come to a blatant invitation, she would know that he was not interested and she would, she _would_ move on.

A half an hour later there was a tentative knock on the door and Winston opened it to reveal her shy friend Roxana. Adele had rushed forward to embrace her friend, whom she hadn't seen in almost half a year. "Darling, I've missed you so much," she whispered into Roxana's long brown hair.

"Adele, you have no idea how worried about you I've been." Their embrace broke and the girls looked at each other.

"Trust me, I know, I _have_ been getting those letters twice weekly, and even replying to them." She grinned, but her smile faltered at Roxana's concerned face. "Honey, I've been okay, honest. I'm fine."

Roxana looked like she'd been awakened from a bad memory. "Yeah, I know…" She looked like she had wanted to say something, but then thought better of it.

Adele eyed her friend carefully, but a fist pounded on the front door, making them all jump. _It's a male._ A hopeful voice whispered in the back of her mind before she ruthlessly pushed it down. She herself bounded to the door and wrenched it open, her heart going in her throat as she saw Chris standing there with a present at his hip and a rueful grin on his face. "There's my favorite Queen," he said before she squealed and practically knocked him over. Locked in that embrace, no one would hear them. "Chris, I-"

"You have nothing to be forgiven for, Adele. What's in the past is in the past, and that's where it will stay." She sighed happily and squeezed him tighter, feeling like her heart could burst from happiness. Laughter once again filled the halls of the Ashlyn manor. Adele, surrounded by friends, sat in the informal sitting room as each of them took turns telling stories about their lives over the past five months. It was Delphine's turn, and she was describing to the delight of everyone exactly how she had acquired her escort for this party.

"…and the next day by a certain chance, I happened to see him again," her voice held mischief and Adele it had nothing to do with chance and everything to do with her interest in Vincent. "So I walked straight up to him, grabbed him by the arm and promptly told him that I was his and he was mine and that was all she wrote!" The girls shrieked with laughter at this, slapping Delphine on the arm for her audacity. Chris, Marius, and Jeremy looked like they would jump from their seats and console Vincent if they knew they wouldn't be battered right back into them a moment later. Instead the males simply exchanged pained looks, saying, "you are a Brother of the get-dragged-around-and-battered-and-bruised-in-the-name-of-female-entertainment-guild and we accept you and know your pain, so be slightly more comforted in this knowledge."

On her way to relieve herself, Adele caught sight of the unlikely couple as she walked down a deserted hall. Vincent saw her first, and held a hand up to silence her sister, who looked furious. Delphine barely broke off what she was saying to glare at Adele, silently challenging her to say anything. Adele, however, dropped her eyes, a slight blush on her cheeks. How embarrassing, to catch her sister and Vincent fighting. She didn't look up until she had made it to the bathroom.

By the time she left the washroom, Delphine and Vincent were nowhere to be seen, which was all the better. She made her way back to the group and found they had rejoined their friends. As she sat down her eyes met Delphine's. Her sister's eyes held barely contained her rage, and Adele realized she hadn't seen her this angry in years, and that Delphine was slightly terrifying when she was riled. Adele glanced at Vincent, who was purposefully looking everywhere but at Adele and Delphine.

With effort, Adele pushed it from her mind. Whatever her sister and Vincent were fighting about, it was nothing of her concern. Delphine was old enough to take care of herself, she didn't need her big sister butting into all of her problems anymore. But as the blissful evening dragged on, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly had pushed Delphine into such a rage.

**6/Trisor**

"I told you, I can't teach you." Delphine's voice was raised in annoyance over having to say the same thing over and over again. Over the last month since Adele's birthday party—she was still angry with Vincent for bringing up that little issue on her sister's birthday—she and Vincent had been back and forth on the same thing. "I barely have the knowledge to do it myself, and certainly not enough training to teach someone else."

"So you can teach me as you learn," Vincent's voice rose in excitement as he pushed away from the wall he had been leaning on. He walked over to where Delphine was leaning against his Craft worktable and cupped her elbows with his hands. This movement, so simple and yet so caring and gentle, caught the words she was going to say in her throat. With effort, she swallowed them. Vincent's pleading eyes looked down into hers. It broke her heart, but she couldn't teach him this, couldn't be the one responsible for what might happen.

"It is strictly forbidden by the Hourglass Coven to teach you our Craft," she began, he sighed at her lecture but she continued, "and I have gone against that these last few months because I care about you and I can't stand to see that bitch of a sister you have be right."

She watched his eyes wilt with rejection and pain, then darken in anger as he sensed where the conversation was leading.

"So you won't teach me." A statement, not a question. His hands gripped her elbows just a bit too tightly before he let go and turned his back on her.

"Vincent, it's not because I don't want to. I have sworn to the Hourglass Coven to protect our Craft." His angry snort was all she got in response. She tried to ignore it and continued, "but even more than that, it is incredibly dangerous to dabble in this type of Black Widow Craft, especially since I know so little myself. I've seen what happens when it goes wrong." She paused, a lump forming in her throat as she remembered the Sister who had pushed her studies too far. One little slip had caught her in her own web and dragged her into the Twisted Kingdom.

There was nothing any of them could do for her anymore. Even for the most experienced of the Coven, there was no coming back from those ghostly lands once you were ensnared. The walls had echoed with the sound of her insane laughter, the shrieks and screams of madness. That chilling sound had haunted her always, and the thought sent the sound whispering about the room even now, as if it were taunting her, showing her things to come. Her stomach twisted in fear. Over the past six months she had learned to trust her own instincts and premonitions. But this one she would fight against with everything in her.

"You have to have the right training," she turned him around and looked into his eyes, "it would destroy me to see you like that, knowing it is my fault you are caught there...beyond reach..." Delphine shivered as the mad-girl's shrieks tickled the corners of her thoughts.

"You all take that chance when you start, knowing you may not survive it intact-"

"But without proper training, from someone who really knows what they are doing, the chances are much higher," she swallowed, knowing just how high the chances were, "almost guaranteed."

"I don't care!" Vincent's voice exploded into a shout. "I don't want to be useless anymore! I hate feeling this tug inside me, this calling that I cannot acknowledge." His eyes captured hers, desperation shining in them. "Please, Delphine." His pain, the need inside him tore at her soul. Her eyes welled up with tears, knowing her choice and its consequences. She shook her head slowly, keeping her eyes locked onto his. She watched the pleading turn to desperation and fear, then to anger.

"If you really cared about me, you wouldn't leave me like this," he flung the bitter words at her and shrugged her off. Without another word, he turned around and was still. Too still. Delphine took a deep breath and then stepped forward.

"Vincent, I'm-"

He whirled around, roaring in rage. The Opal Jewel hanging from his neck blazed with fury. "GET OUT!" He roared at the same moment he flung a blast of Opal power at her. The moment she had seen his Jewel glowing, Delphine had thrown up a Purple Dusk shield, and only a split second later his power hit her shield, shattering it and sending her sprawling on the ground.

She looked up, slightly dazed and saw him advancing upon her. He must have been using that quiet moment when he had turned around to descend to his inner web and gather his full strength. If she hadn't have been so distracted with worry for him, she would have felt him descending into the abyss, even if the Opal was just one rank lower than the Purple Dusk. The Opal gave him an edge over her, but tangling with a Black Widow was never a smart move, even if she wore lighter Jewels. Witches of the Hourglass Coven could easily ensnare a man's mind, or poison him with her snake fang. But Delphine was only a journeymaid Black Widow, without the proper training or temperament to ensnare a mind effectively—yet. Besides, she couldn't, wouldn't use her venom against Vincent—even now.

Scrambling to her feet, Delphine felt hot anger welling up inside her. She threw a blast of Purple Dusk power at him. It collided in midair with his Opal, causing a colossal explosion that sent the room flying in all directions. The smell of smoldering wood and ink filled Delphine's nose as she darted for the door. He didn't follow her but as she ran she heard an anguished cry behind her.

People were now running towards the commotion, but Delphine shoved past them, running away from the pain. She choked back a sob as tears of frustration, pain, and anger stung her eyes. The shock that had held them at bay the last few minutes finally released her and let the tears flow freely. Once she was far enough away she stumbled towards a pillar and clung to it desperately, sobbing. Delphine had wanted more than anything to help Vincent, to show him the secrets of a Black Widow and to drive away the abuse that had scarred him. But being a Black Widow wasn't just about ensnaring the minds of others, it was about touching the deep wounds a healer couldn't. The wounds that couldn't be seen but bleed freely from the soul. She had seen Vincent's soul wound, she just didn't know enough to be able to help him.

It was her fault for giving him false hope and then denying him. If it were anyone else, she would have ripped into them for the desperate hunger, for exploding at her in anger. But Vincent...she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the anguish flow through her afresh. She had made her decision, and now whatever they had shared was over. _It's my fault._ New tears flowed as she finally released the flood gates of her pain and stopped trying to hold it back.

*Adele!* Her heart cried out to her sister in her pain. Of course, her sister couldn't hear her, a blind sending through the Darkness couldn't reach Adele, but it still made her feel better. _Better to see a friend angry at you then insane._ Her sister's comforting voice filled her mind, her tone understanding. That was what Adele would have said. Delphine wiped at one of her tears, a smile quirking the corner of her lips. She always knew just what to say.

"I'm sorry, Vincent," she whispered and pushed away from the pillar.

* * *

_Chapter 7 Preview_

Her finger delicately stroked the little flower petals as the memory of his voice filled her head _I wanted to give you this: it's a forget-me-not, because I never want you to forget about me._ Tears stung her eyes as those words, once spoken in earnest and in love, that now came back to haunt her thoughts once again. _I haven't, Adam. I never stop thinking about you, but..._


	7. Chapter 7

**~ Chapter 7 ~**

**1/Delleva**

The afternoon summer light shone in from the window, bright and joyous, revealing the bustling Delleva streets below. Adele sat at her desk gazing outside, lost deep in though. His last words echoed in her mind from that rainy night so many months ago. As she looked out the window, her fingers idly stroked the corner of a small book, her diary. She turned her attention to the little book and opened it swiftly, rifling through the pages until she found the one she sought. And there it was, the little blue-and-yellow flower. It had been pressed and dried, its petals kissing the words of that night's entry. She had been too excited and nervous to sleep, so she had written.

Her finger delicately stroked the little flower petals as the memory of his voice filled her head. _I wanted to give you this: it's a forget-me-not, because I never want you to forget about me._ Tears stung her eyes as those words, once spoken in earnest and in love, came back to haunt her thoughts once again. _I haven't, Adam. I never stop thinking about you, but... _She paused, finally understanding what she had refused to acknowledge for months. _...it seems that you have...forgotten about me._ What other explanation could there be for nine months of silence? She lowered her head and choked on the first onslaught of tears just as someone knocked at the door.

Adele sniffed quickly, snapped the book shut, and wiped her eyes hurriedly even as she said, "Come in."

Christine walked in and pulled a chair up next to Adele's, green eyes moving from Adele's face, to her hand inching away from the closed book, and back up to her face, noting the puffy eyes rubbing couldn't hide. Her easy expression became troubled; her eyes narrowed.

"You were thinking of Adam again." It wasn't a question.

No point in trying to deny it. Adele looked out the window, uncomfortable looking Christine in the eye. "All this time, I thought he was just too caught up in his training, or maybe..." She lowered her gaze, not wanting Christine to see how much the thought of him moving on hurt her.

"Maybe a Warlord Prince who declared himself publicly interested in you, spent a month courting you seriously, and then pulled you out of your balcony in the middle of the night in the pouring rain to give you the most romantic kiss I've ever heard about would dump you at the drop of a hat?" Christine's questioning glance and slight smile banished her doubts and opened a new door of worry. She turned in her chair towards her friend.

"You think something is stopping him?"

"Or someone." Christine's eyes were serious before she broke the look and shook her head. "Something is happening, and it all makes me uneasy. Maybe it's spread as far as Tawnar." She chewed her lip.

"Right then," Adele said, straightening in her chair, her resolve back. "Something is stopping him from writing me, and I'm going to find out what."

A slow smile crept onto Christine's lips, as if she were waiting for more, and Adele grinned back.

"The Lady of Tawnar should know about the activities of a Darker-Jeweled Warlord Prince in her village." Christine grinned at her and stood as Adele got out her writing supplies.

"Then I'll leave you to your work, I have my own duties to take care of, after all." Her friend left the room as silently as she had come. Only then did the uneasiness creep back. _I just hope I'm not too late._

**2/Tirrador**

Carefully now. It had to be done so subtly that it could leave no outside trace of influence. Not with him staying in _that_ village. Aveline sighed in pleasure: in the last few months, Adam's mind had come a long way to her thinking. That damned stubborn male had been so steadfast in his faith in Adele...at first. Luckily, his mind couldn't forget the abuse and cruelty of the other woman he had been around his whole life, and the couple hadn't been involved long. Now that his pretty little darling was so far away, it was relatively easy to sow the seeds of doubt, to nurture them into weeds of hatred that would choke him.

She just had to be very, _very_ slow and patient, something that was becoming more difficult as time went on. She had read the last letter intercepted from Adele—a letter not to Adam but to the Black Widow leader of Tawnar. Aveline shuddered at how easily all her plans could have come crashing down if that letter had made it to its intended receiver. But now more than ever, she had to move with caution, and little by little, Adam would be an enraged Warlord Prince, a weapon she could point directly at that little bitch's heart. Best of all, he would destroy Adele of his own free will. She would never have to take control of his mind, only influence his hate a little. Maybe he'd even make the Offering to the Darkness soon—then _no one_ would be able to stop him. Aveline wrapped her arms around herself, giddy delight welling up inside her.

And he wouldn't just be useful in destroying Adele; her little friends would naturally try to avenge their Queen's death, and when they did, Adam would destroy them all, one by one. What did it matter if he happened to die in the process? In fact, it might be better. She shivered as she thought about his hand squeezing her wrist with bruising force, how angry he had been with her for the games she had played with him. Yes, it was best that Adam perish with those other fools.

Once Adele, who was obviously the next chosen to become the Territory Queen, was eliminated, the other Queens in Tirrador might think twice before stepping up to rule _her_ Territory. If they didn't, well, none of them were as strong as Lady Ashlyn. They wouldn't put up as much of a resistance._ Besides, I have plans for our other little Queens as well, _she thought. They wouldn't even have the chance to make their Offerings. By the time she was finished with all of them, there would be no one left to rule Tirrador but her, Lady Aveline Lathan, High Widow of Tirrador.

Aveline pushed those thoughts aside for now: there was much work to do and no time to daydream. She sat in her workroom, a sacred place for her to work her Black Widow Craft. Her eyes slid down to focus on the tangled web she used to form the connection between herself and her brother's mind. Normally, one needed to have physical contact with someone, but since they shared the same mother, in this case it was unnecessary.

Her eyes became unfocused and farseeing as she began slipping into the dreamscape. The anger was there, the stinging betrayal, but it wasn't enough to provoke him into a murderous rage. All it seemed to be doing was driving him into solitude to lick his wounds like a hurt puppy, but she could fix that. As she began to dive deeper, a hurried knock sounded at the door, and the sudden noise snapped her out of the dreamscape. Aveline blinked in confusion for a moment before she growled.

The door opened without her permission to enter—an error she fully intended to rectify—and Olst strode in quickly. Rage twisting her beautiful features, Aveline slammed her hands onto the table and dug her long fingernails into the wood, using just a little Craft to really get them in. She whirled around to face the foolish man, the force of her spin knocking the chair over.

"_What_ have I told you about making sure to get permission before entering my private workroom?" she screamed as she curled her fingers into claws, the snake tooth sliding out from under her nail, itching to sink into flesh.

The young man stopped in his tracks, terrified at such a violent reaction. A gifted, good-looking youth who could have been useful if he wore darker jewels than Summer-sky. Normally, mild annoyance would have been her only reaction, but disturbing a Widow when they were in one of those dreamscapes could distract them, lead them to becoming ensnared in their own web, or worse. Damnit, that had been too close. It had scared the shit out of her.

"A m-message Lady," Olst stuttered as he took a step back.

With effort, Aveline smoothed her bristled hackles and glided gracefully over to a more comfortable chair. Sinking into it, she flicked her fingernails together and gave him her attention. He swallowed, gaining back a little confidence, and continued.

"It seems the Lady Delphine Ashlyn has had a violent fight with her suitor, Vincent Raven." Aveline raised an eyebrow but said nothing, so he licked his lips and continued, "My source has reported that our Lady has been teaching him a bit of the Hourglass Craft." More interest. "...And when she finally cut him off, it seems her little boy-toy didn't like being jerked around."

Aveline smiled and settled deeper into the chair. "Apparently not." Her eyes narrowed as she thought. "Raven...yes, I remember now. His sister's an ambitious bitch, but not ambitious enough." She suppressed a snarl, remembering Matilda's rejection. "But it seems her little brother could be more accommodating to my needs." Her smile widened, and she sighed contentedly. "It's almost too perfect, Olst—before long, I will hold in my hands the two perfect weapons against the Ashlyn sisters." Aveline lit two radiant tongues of witchfire at the ends of her fingertips, then snuffed them out violently as she crushed them in her fist, "Their hearts."

The Black Widow grinned savagely, relishing both the knowledge she had at her fingertips, and what she would do with it. She stood quickly and turned to Olst. "Prepare a coach. I'm going to be staying in Trisor for a few weeks." He bowed low and turned to leave when she pinned him with her voice: "And Olst, don't think I won't forget your little mistake." It pleased her to see him shiver ever so slightly.

"Y-yes Lady."

Another moment and he was gone while Aveline began packing her supplies. Currently, she lived in a large cottage near Tawnar with many securities she herself had put there to keep the vigilant people of Tawnar unaware of its presence. It galled her to live in such squalor conditions, with only a few servants to look after her amenities, but she needed to be close to Adam and to keep a low profile while she set her plans into motion—a spider sitting in a dark corner holding and moving all the strings. It would take effort to trace what was happening in Tirrador back to her, a method she'd learned from Dorothea herself. Still, some things you just had to do yourself.

**3/Trisor**

Vincent Raven walked along the winding paths of the garden around the Hourglass' estate. Unsure of his destination or even the reason of the venture, he meandered and admired the summer flowers—or, at least looked at them. It seemed all he did since his fight with Delphine a week ago, besides attend to his duties to the Hourglass Coven, was to wander. It was as if he was searching for something, like he was being pulled here.

Unable to look at the painfully cheerful flowers, the bright colors warring with his dark mood, he turned and headed for the darker parts of the garden. As he walked, he noted the wilder, more natural plants that grew, barely guided by the gardeners. The crawling ivy that choked the walls, the gnarled trees with darker leaves, and the vicious-looking plants that probably produced poison all suited Vincent's dark mood. He sighed stroking a vine of ivy; he hadn't meant to lash out at Delphine like that, but her rejection had hurt his pride, had lacerated his soul so deeply that it had to have an outlet.

Now all he wanted to do was confront her and apologize, but there were so many reasons to avoid her, so many reasons to see her. He wanted to ask for her forgiveness for his violence, wanted to beg her to take him back and fill the empty hole that had been in his heart since that fight. Another part of him wanted to hurt her more, force her to teach him, and he was slightly intrigued by it. It alarmed him how much that prospect intrigued him.

"Hello, Warlord," a low voice greeted him from behind.

Vincent whirled around to see a woman shrouded in a black cloak standing at the other end of the alcove. Her hood was drawn over her head, hiding part of her face in shadow. Seeing her only deepened his caution and scraped against his temper.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want?" he growled, descending quickly to his inner web to gather his strength.

She just smiled and stepped forward, raising a hand to pull the hood off the cloak. He noticed her Opal-Jeweled ring in the movement and growled, unsure of his edge in this fight. Then he saw a desperately beautiful face, framed by long black hair and green eyes that held a look he couldn't fathom. Vincent swallowed, unnerved by her staggering loveliness.

"I am Aveline Lathan and have just as much right to be here as you, Vincent. Perhaps more." He was puzzled for only a moment before a light breeze blew her psychic scent to him. A mature Black Widow: more than enough reason to be here. But...

"You didn't have to sneak up behind me." he growled, still not relaxing.

"I have been waiting here for you. I called you." A knowing smile slid across her plump lips. "Do not fear me, Warlord, I am not here to harm you. On the contrary, I am here to help you."

His interest piqued slightly, Vincent lowered his arms and raised an eyebrow. "You are here to help me, Lady?" Somehow, he doubted that.

She nodded. "And you me." With a long-nailed finger, she beckoned him to come as she sat down on a stone bench. Interest warring with caution, Vincent came forward slowly and sat next to her, studying her every move.

"How do you know my name?" he blurted before she could speak. She smiled darkly.

"There are many things that I know about you, Vincent, and you of all people should know how I know. What you should be asking is why." He considered this. Tangled webs could show a Widow many things, which was why many people called them fortunetellers and seers. He nodded, and she continued.

"I know about your little spat with your lover-"

She raised an eyebrow as he sputtered, "She wasn't my lover."

"-Lady, then." Aveline looked him square in the eye. "Vincent, I know why you fought. I know your hunger for knowledge and power."

He was about to protest but stopped himself. _Isn't that why you wanted the knowledge of the Craft, to be stronger so that you didn't have to be ruled? _

"And I can provide that power." Vincent's eyebrows shot straight up, and he almost stood up. Before he could speak, she held up a hand for silence. "I need an apprentice, someone whom I can teach and nurture in our ways."

He frowned, puzzled. "Why not get a female?" He screwed his face in contempt. "A _natural_ Black Widow?" His voice was saturated with bitterness.

Aveline just smiled and shook her head. "I need a male, someone with promise and—" Her green eyes flickered to the Opal Jewel around his neck and back to his eyes. "—power. Someone strong who can protect me." With all the rumors going about centered around Black Widows and their "dangerous Craft," he wasn't surprised. "I can teach you in some of our Craft." Those green eyes became stern and unyielding. "But I cannot teach you everything." Her eyes softened, and she bent down, long fingers reaching for one of those lovely, deadly plants.

"Besides," she said as she plucked a flower and held it up for his inspection, "I think that poisons would suit you better, darling." She crushed a deep purple petal between her fingers and let the juices run over them. An intoxicating scent wafted from it, and Aveline slashed a look at him. "I know you have very little, if any, experience in poisons."

She rubbed her fingers together, watching them for a moment before sticking her index finger in her mouth. He yelped in alarm, and she threw back her head, laughing. "It's all right. Black Widows have built up a resistance to many poisons. It takes a lot to kill one of us that way." She took his chin in her hand. "But your concern is very touching." She smiled, pleased, and let him go. "Does that mean you accept my offer?"

He licked his dry lips and considered her offer. There was something about her that her that scared him a little. She excited him and awakened a darkness in himself that he hadn't known existed...until now.

Vincent looked up at her, dark eyes clear. "Yes."

**4/Trisor**

Delphine walked with Gwen away from the dining hall, their bellies full from the midday meal. They were currently engaged in a friendly debate about their Craft lessons. She enjoyed the company of people who understood her Craft, whom she could share knowledge and grow with, but she still missed Adele. There had been a few people here she had been able to bond with, Gwen being one of them; even among Black Widows, her temper was considered prickly, not that Gwen minded. _Not that he had minded either. _The thought bubble rose up into her mind and released its evil contents before she could shove it down again. Pain lanced her heart.

"Damn that stupid, prissy bastard!" When Delphine glanced at Gwen, her hands were curled into claws, and her teeth were bared. "How dare he do that to you, demanding something that you've only just begun to learn!"

Surprised at Gwen's quick flash of anger when she was usually so even-tempered, Delphine took a step back. A soft smile touched Delphine's lips as she looked at her friend.

Battle fire still in her eyes, Gwen looked at Delphine and snared, "What?"

"Nothing. You're a good friend, Gwen."

Surprise bounced Gwen's mood away from rage, and she blinked. "Oh." She straightened up and brushed her pants for something to do. "It's nothing, just—"

She looked up to see Delphine's amusement growing. Throwing her hands in the air, Gwen began walking again. Looking up and down the corridor to see if any of the other students had been present to see Gwen's little outburst, Delphine caught sight of him. He had been walking in her direction until their eyes met, his gaze brooding, gait prowling. He immediately wheeled around and started going in the other direction.

"Hey, Gwen, I'll catch up later, ok?" Delphine called back.

She didn't even wait for her friend to respond before hurrying off after Vincent.

She caught up to him and then...what? How was she supposed to say this? A quick glance—his hands in his pockets, back hunched—he looked as awkward as she felt. Delphine took a loud breath. Might as well come out and say it; no point in demeaning their conversation with small talk.

"You seem darker." Now _that_ sounded awkward. His only response was to quicken his pace, trying to get rid of her. _Oh, it won't be that easy, you prick!_ She huffed and widened her steps to catch up with him. When she did, he slowed down again. Funny. Did he _want _her to catch him? She cleared her throat and tried again.

"What is going on, Vincent? Why are you so broody, so..." _dangerous? _She didn't say it, but the thought hung between them. She had seen him over the last few weeks, seen this strange change in his temperament and his psychic scent that frankly scared her. Had their breakup really affected him that much?

"I'm just thinking about stuff," he said gruffly, then shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

She bared her teeth and planted herself in front of him, squaring her shoulders and bracing her feet. He wasn't going to get out of it that easily. "What's going on?" She put some bite in her voice. Cornered, his head snapped up, his dark eyes fiery.

"You wanted me out of your life, right? Well, you got it. Now you can't balk about the consequences."

Her head jerked back, the fight gone from her. _Ouch._ She swallowed and looked down; Vincent sighed impatiently and gracefully maneuvered around her, heading down the hall. Delphine watched him go, shock and hurt etched into her features. Then she squinted, seeing a shadowy figure waiting at the end of the hall: a woman, tall, with long black hair and lovely features.

Aveline Lathan. Delphine curled her lips automatically. She had never forgotten that fake bitch or the wrongness that surrounded her. Her eyes shot from Vincent to Aveline and then back again. He didn't look back as he headed towards Aveline. Oh yes, she understood now.

"I see the kind of crowd you're running with now, Vincent." Her voice was laced with biting anger, her words sharp enough to cut. Aveline? How, why? What did it mean? As she stared after Vincent, her mind rushed, spinning in circles searching for an answer.

He turned to look at her as he reached Aveline, expression unfathomable, so she shifted her eyes to Aveline. The woman's face shone with wicked satisfaction, her eyes mocking Delphine. It was like she was showing off a prized bone to a rival bitch.

"So you'll choose her kind over us, then? Over me?" Her eyes didn't leave Aveline's as she spoke. She didn't want to see whatever was in his eyes, couldn't take hate or rejection in them, or worse, confirmation. "Don't expect anything more from me." Now, however, she did look at him. There was a hint of a bruised look in his eyes before it was gone again. "I hope you're happy with your decision." Her voice dripped with venom before she turned and walked away from him.

* * *

Delphine walked with increased speed towards her own room. As soon as she was well away from those two..._people_, she had almost ran. Aveline and Vincent...something about it was gnawing at her, a link tugging at her in an annoying way. She had only just begun to understand the aspect of dream weaving in her Black Widow Craft, so understanding all the flavors of this string were difficult to catch. Frustrated, Delphine growled, long nails pricking the insides of her palms as she balled her fists more tightly. She needed to _weave_, needed to understand everything those delicate webs could tell her before it slipped away.

Rounding the corner, close to her room, she almost ran into Gwen. Her friend took one calculating look at her expression and stood aside. "Do what must be done, Sister. May the Darkness embrace you."

Delphine spared a moment to smile at Gwen, grateful for the understanding, before she headed for her room. She locked the door and then Purple-Dusk locked it, to at least make it clear to any intruders that their presence was not welcomed. Since she resided in the large estate in Trisor where Black Widows were trained, she doubted the silent warning would be challenged. Satisfied, she turned to her workroom and gathered her equipment together before surrendering to the web.

**5/Lidalli**

After trying to read the same paragraph unsuccessfully for the fifth time, Roxana put her book down with a huff. She sat at a desk in the library, on the third floor so she could look out from the large window and see the other students lazing about or studying on the lawns under the large trees that littered the campus. This particular corner was her favorite because of its solitude. On three sides it was closed in by heavy bookshelves, and she had the table and a few chairs all to herself. It was like her own private getaway without retreating completely from the world. Like her own personality, she thought dryly, always watching everything going on from the sidelines without actually interacting, but seeing everything. Chris wouldn't have stood for that: when they were children, he usually just hauled her along with he and Adele, no matter how loud she balked in protest. A smile unconsiously formed on her lips as she thought of their childhood adventures.

_And now look at us._ Adele to become the next Territory Queen, Chris off to one of the best training academies for warriors, and herself attending one of the most famous academies in all of Tirrador. Well, not at the moment, she thought as she frowned down at her book. Since it was summer, most of the academy was closed, with a few exceptions. Roxana had chosen to stay on campus except for a short visit to Delacova and had visited Adele and Delphine on her way back. There was no reason to stay in Delacova, all her friends were still off training, so after her brief visit abroad, she had returned to the academy to wait for the Fall term to begin.

"Come on, Adele, I know something's bothering you," Roxana had pressed as they sat at Adele's favorite cafe in Delleva one summer morning. The smile that had haunted Adele's face disappeared immediately, replaced by a real one.

"I should have known I couldn't hide anything from you. You were always so hard to trick when we were children, too. Remember the time when Chris and I hid frogs in my mother's dresser drawer and we tried to blame it on Delphine?" Adele chuckled. "You saw right through that and went straight to my father, telling him the whole thing. I don't think either of us could sit properly for a few days."

Roxana smiled at the story, but it didn't quite reach her eyes as she waited patiently for her friend to gather enough courage to tell her what was really bothering her. Finally, Adele sighed and sat back in her seat. The girl's blue eyes searched the busy little city square, obviously troubled.

"I don't think I need to tell you how things currently are in Tirrador," she began. "You, I think, were one of the first to pick up on it in Delacova." She was silent for a minute before looking into Roxana's eyes. "I think that...whatever it is has spread throughout the whole Territory. That subtle fear that causes people to think twice about who they trust, that you can never quite pinpoint."

Roxana nodded, leaning forward so that her elbows were on the table. She didn't speak, though, not wanting to break Adele's train of thought.

"What if...whatever this is has gone from just whispers to a physical manifestation? What if people are finally acting on these fears and doubts?"

Roxana's eyebrows sharpened into a "V." "What are you talking about, Adele?" She studied her friend carefully. "What do you think happened?"

Adele immediately looked away, a guarded look in her eyes. "It's not just because I have ties to this, I truly think something is wrong," she hedged cautiously, as if she thought Roxana already doubted her before she even said it.

"Adele, I trust your judgment," she said, reaching out and touching her hand. "Just tell me what you think. You're a Queen, and some things are inherent. You have a way about you and a sixth sense about people and situations that are, most of the time, dead on."

She studied Adele's eyes and was immensely relieved when she saw them strengthen. Queens ruled the Blood for a reason: they knew how to make good judgments and could listen to the land to learn both what was wrong and how to heal it. If anyone could banish this subtle threat from Tirrador and strengthen the ties between the Blood, it was Adele.

"I...haven't heard from Adam since I left." Well, that more than explained her hesitation. "I've talked to Christine about it. At first I thought it was just, well, him being busy or..." The bruised look in those blue eyes told her _exactly_ what Adele had thought about Adam's silence, but Roxana said nothing still. "But since I talked to Christine, she thinks that maybe it's not him ignoring me but maybe something stopping him from writing." Raw fear and worry filled Adele's eyes as she finally looked straight at Roxana. "Roxana, Adam is a Warlord Prince who wears the Green as his _Birthright_. He is one of the strongest Warlord Princes in Tirrador, and ten months ago he went into a secluded, highly secretive village on the edge of Tirrador that has known hostilities with another village close by."

Roxana's eyes widened as she understood the implications of what Adele was saying. "You think someone is acting on their fear and using his location as a means to…silence him?"

Adele shook her head. "I don't know. I've written a letter to Lady Jesiah, the Black Widow of Tawnar, and so far I haven't gotten a response. If it doesn't come in the next month or so, I'm going to make a formal inquiry to Lady Nevelle, requesting she look into the whereabouts of Adam herself."

Roxana nodded, her eyes distant, already thinking. After a minute, she looked at Adele, worry clear on her face. "I think things have progressed far more rapidly than I had originally thought. I'll look into it."

And after a few more days, Roxana had returned to the academy. All that time, they never discussed the subject again, as if it were a wound between them that neither of them had wanted to touch. They had shopped with Christine and Marius, the girls delightedly moving from shop to shop while a bedraggled Marius tried to keep up with their energy; met Christine's grandmother, a woman who both mystified Roxana and slightly unnerved her the same way Christine had when they'd first met; and enjoyed everything a summer in the capital had to offer before they said goodbye and Roxana had left.

In those equally fun and exhausting days, it had been easy to forget the dark warnings of that café conversation. In the warm sunlight and beautiful streets of Delleva, their cares had melted away, and Roxana had almost believed that everything would work itself out, that other people were responsible for the safety of the wooded Territory. But she was wrong. Now, as she sat among her piles of books and looked out over the lawns of the academy and saw the other students frolicking in the fading summer light, she knew she had been wrong. _They_ were responsible for making Tirrador better, and she couldn't turn a blind eye to the warnings of _two_ Queens, even if they had not formed courts yet.

A few years ago, when she had taken a good look at the Queens in Tirrador and realized that Adele would probably be the Territory Queen, Roxana had decided that she had wanted to serve in Adele's court. After all, it would just be formally acknowledging what had been apparent for years; they just hadn't realized it until recently. Roxana smiled to herself—especially Adele. Roxana would use her knowledge and intuition to help Adele keep Tirrador as it always had been. Amazed at the sincerity of her conviction—something she hadn't thought about in a year or more—Roxana made up her mind. Even if she didn't formally serve Adele yet, she would use everything at her disposal to help her Queen.

Armed with her decision, Roxana scooted forward in the chair and bent over her empty pad of paper, dipped her pen into the inkwell, and started to make a list of books.

* * *

_Chapter 8 Preview_

*Lady, Roxana Lavelle is outside of the Lathan Estate.* Olst licked his lips nervously as Aveline's confusion, then anger flooded through the connection.

*She's _where?_*

*At your old residence, Lady.* There was a pause, and he knew her dark mind was calculating.

*Should I…deal with her?*


	8. Chapter 8

Hi Everyone! I'm really sorry about not publishing for 2 months. A lot has happened in that time...My boyfriend of 6 years and I broke up, and I've moved. So, I've been going through a lot, mentally and physically. But, now I'm reasonably settled into my new place (which, of course means most of my things are still packed away and boxes clutter the entire place.) Anyway, I'm posting this chapter, and chapter 9 both this month to make up for my unexcused absence, and also because I'm not going to be working on Innocence at all in November. I'll still be working on something, though! I'll be participating in National Novel Writing Month! 50,000 words for a new project in one month! *cries* Kind of a scary prospect, because that's about what I've got for this story total so far, and it's taken me a year or two to get this far. Wish me luck, I'll be back in business after finals mid-December!

Also, I'm making the decision to do this, because the end of Chapter 9 is really the end of "Part 1" of the story, so it's a good break. Don't worry, I'll throw myself into it with vigor after school ends!

~Kerie Nightingale

**~Chapter 8~**

**1/Trisor**

Delphine Ashlyn lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling with bleary, sleep-deprived eyes. She sighed regretfully and, resigning herself to another night of insomnia, rolled out of bed. Grabbing a dark robe, she slipped it on and walked over to the balcony, leaning on the railing to observe the sleepy manor grounds and village beyond, bathed in moonlight. In the distance, she could see the soft glow of the capital on the skyline, where Adele was probably resting peacefully, or at least more peacefully than she was.

Truthfully, she wasn't getting much sleep at all lately. The web she'd woven to understand the vision she had been seeing after…well, she couldn't exactly call what she and Vincent had been doing _talking _necessarily. That day she had surrendered to the maddening _need_ to weave and carry out the vision to its full extent. And weave she had: she had come out of the trance with fingers bloody from the making and constant plucking of the strings, tears of exhaustion and pain streaming down her face.

What the vision had told her would have been confusing and difficult for even a fully trained Black Widow to understand. She didn't know how she'd known that at the time—she just had.

In all the time since she had woven it, Delphine was still no closer to deciphering its meaning. She looked over her shoulder at the huge frame that held her web, now covered with a sheet and partially hidden from view. She squinted at it, remembering the time she had asked a Sister of the Hourglass Coven to read it, since it was proving so difficult to do so herself.

The woman had been seated at the chair facing Delphine's troubling web, studying it closely.

"You made this?" she asked, not unkindly. "I've never seen a Journeymaid weave a web so intricate or so large." Delphine grinned, puffing slightly at the older woman's praise.

"Now, then." She settled in the seat, and Delphine watched her relax and go into the trance to see the exact same vision Delphine had.

Minutes later, the woman gasped as she opened her eyes and came out of the trance. Delphine looked at her expectantly, desperate for answers, but the woman just turned to her, eyes troubled and confused.

"I—cannot read it. I do not understand what it is telling me."

She shook her head, as if trying to rid it of cobwebs. Delphine felt as if she'd just been dropped down into a deep, dark pit: if a fully trained Black Widow could not understand it, how could she ever hope to?

The woman smiled softly. "Don't look so down. It just means that I cannot taste all the flavors of the threads the way the creator can." Delphine just stared at her. "You are the only one who can truly hear what the vision has to say, as if you were the only one who can understand its unique language." She frowned at the large web. "I do not know why the Darkness has given such a large, complicated puzzle to a young journeymaid Black Widow, but there is always a reason." She put a hand on Delphine's shoulder, her eyes boring into the girl's. "Remember that there _is_ always a reason. You can see this vision, and _only_ you. It is very important to remember that."

Delphine turned to look back at the moonlit gardens below, away from the web and its confusing intricacies. She knew her Sister had been right, that she was the only one who could understand the vision. There hadn't been many such visions before, but whatever the reason, in the wrong hands, this web could lead to disaster.

Feeling the responsibility weigh heavy on her shoulders, Delphine sighed and turned, walking slowly to the frame, which was almost as large as she was. She pulled off the thin sheet covering it, the threads gleamed silver and radiant in the moonlight, but Delphine stared as if it had grown fangs.

The web had given her more trouble than anything else she had ever experienced, but it was _her_ responsibility to listen to what the Darkness was trying to tell her. Steeled with her purpose, she sat in front of the web and slowly let herself slip into a trance. Relaxed as she was, the threads enveloped her like a lover, and she felt as if it were smiling at her, like _it_ wasn't the one who had let her down, but as if _she _was the one who had let it down. It had been waiting for _her_. For exactly what, Delphine couldn't say, but whatever it was, she was ready to see it.

As if the thought had unlocked the vision, she slipped into it effortlessly.

_It is almost time._

**2/Lidalli**

Roxana Lavelle sat at her little corner of the library, books piled around her on the desk. One could barely see the top of her brown head above them. She sat back with a heavy sigh, pushing an open book away, and staring at the desk, at the endless notes she had taken on everything she could surmise about what was going on. Mostly it was far too general to be of any help: how the Blood in general became tainted and so on. But that was a path of darkness for an individual—how could it affect a whole Territory without anyone being aware of it? Or at least until it was far too late.

Roxana knew that Tirrador was not the only Territory to face this kind of taint. But this problem was new to her home, so naturally they would have no records of it. No, what she was searching for was beyond the border, in Territories that lay in the shadow of Hayll. But Tirrador was fairly far north in Terrielle, and they were basically unaffected by Hayll—something that many of the Blood here took for granted.

Still, Dorothea, the High Priestess of Hayll, had little reason to turn her gaze upon Tirrador. It couldn't be her, but possibly someone else was copying her. The question was, who?

She thought back to her conversation with Adele in the coffee shop. Maybe someone who wouldn't want a Green-Jeweled Warlord Prince who belonged to an aristo family around. Roxana began to gather her notes hurriedly, shoving them into a bag recklessly.

It was time she paid a visit to Adam.

**3/Tawnar**

The moment she stepped off the landing web outside Tawnar, Roxana felt the humidity of the southern forests weigh her down, almost as much as her purpose did. She steeled herself against finding the village in chaos, or worse, already destroyed. It wouldn't be that difficult to quietly take care of Tawnar, given its isolation here in the south and its fierce independence. No one would notice for at least a week or so—what if she was the first one to discover them? With them harboring a powerful Warlord Prince, the eradication of the whole village was probably an easier way to take care of the problem.

But the sounds of battle did not meet her ear as she neared the village; still, her nervousness grew. The people of Tawnar guarded their village with legendary savagery, and they probably wouldn't look too kindly on a girl walking right into their home without permission. She just hoped she'd have enough time to explain she was visiting Adam.

And why hadn't she contacted Adam to let him know she was on her way, anyway? It seemed rather foolish in hindsight that she hadn't at least tried to send him a message beforehand. Perhaps she was afraid to really know if he was dead, or afraid of rejection or anger from him. What would she say to Adele?

Just a handful of steps away from the landing web, and her clothes were already sticking to her skin. The tenacity of the summer heat clung to the southern Province of Idana, even in early fall. Roxana tried to contain her nerves as the village came into view. It looked…okay. So far, so good: half the internal battle was solved. Now she just needed to find Adam and-

"Why, hello there!"

A female voice coming suddenly from behind her sent her nerves skittering in every direction and almost made her jump out of her skin. Wheeling around, she saw a woman she faintly remembered standing on the path. No one had been in sight a moment ago.

The woman, a lovely specimen with raven dark hair and olive skin, smiled openly at her, seemingly undisturbed by Roxana's alarm. "It's so good to see a familiar face from my home village."

Roxana just stared at her, trying to remember where she had seen this woman before, and where the scent of sticky-sweet, rotting flowers was coming from. The scent triggered a memory: the masked ball, the party that seemed somehow to start all of this chaos. Aveline Lathan. Roxana had to will herself not to glare at the woman as she straightened up and extended her hands stiffly.

"Yes, though I'm surprised you remember me, Lady Lathan, your family's ball in Delacova was so long ago."

Aveline stepped forward and returned the greeting, placing her hands below Roxana's, the long fingernails of a Black Widow just a little too sharp on her wrists for comfort. Roxana broke the contact quickly and forced a smile. "So, what brings you to Tawnar?" _Stupid, stupid! Adam is her brother!_

"Why, to visit my darling little brother, of course!" Aveline laughed, and scratching those nails of hers against a chalkboard couldn't have grated more against Roxana's ears. "And yourself?"

She froze, unable to think of a reason why she would be all the way here, the friend of a friend of Adam's. _Think, think! _"I'm here to visit with Khevin, actually," she lied quickly, remembering Adam's handsome friend she had met a few times. She blushed. "We've been close pen pals since he returned to Tawnar, and decided it was time for a visit."

"Oh, yes, I remember now! He told me about you two." Aveline gave her a sly smile, adding, "You make a very handsome couple."

Roxana blushed appropriately. "Thank you. I'd best be heading off now, though. Khevin and I had plans-"

"Of course; I'm returning to Delacova myself." She gave Roxana a smile that made her skin crawl. "Well, have a pleasant day." Just then, someone Roxana recognized appeared near the landing web. _Vincent?_ Roxana just stared as the youth came forward slowly, apparently waiting for Aveline. "Oh, you know my escort?" Aveline asked with some surprise.

"Y-yes, we met briefly recently." She nodded in his direction, too stunned to give him a proper greeting. It felt like the very earth below her feet was unstable ground.

"Well, goodbye." And with that, the woman turned and headed for the landing web Roxana had just come from.

The overwhelming need to escape, to run away, overtook Roxana as she turned her back and quickly walked towards the village, all intentions of finding Adam fled her mind. She approached the village, but turned and practically ran for the landing web connecting to the Winds before she reached it. As she caught the Rose Wind back towards Lidalli, she only had a moment to wonder why she never heard the sound of Aveline catching the Winds to leave Tawnar.

**4/Tawnar**

"That was too close," Aveline growled as she paced, back at her cabin in the woods near Tawnar. "Everything, _everything_, could have been ruined if that little bitch had made it into the village and met with Adam!" She snarled and whirled around, knocking over a vase. "They are starting to get curious about Adam, and if they get a hold of him before I am finished with him, it will all be ruined!"

"But at least you won't be threatened—they can't link you to it." Vincent spoke for the first time, lounging from his chair where he had been watching her rage. "You could just stop with your plans for Adam and-"

She was on him in a moment, pinning him to the chair. "And what, let Adele and her little friends live? Don't forget they are directly in the way of my plans for Tirrador." Her face softened and she stroked his cheek gently. "Darling, I know you still have feelings for Adele's sister."

He looked away quickly but couldn't escape her knowing gaze. She smirked and leaned forward, pressing against his chest as she breathed in his ear. "We don't have to kill her, you know." She felt him tense, and her mouth twisted into a wider smile. "I could let you keep Delphine as a pet. She would be yours exclusively…to do _whatever_ you please." Vincent groaned as Aveline's teeth gripped his ear.

"Y-yes."

Aveline chuckled softly as she unlatched herself from him and stood up. "Good. No distractions, then. And no more of your 'ideas.' Remember, I'm the one calling the shots. You serve me."

"Yes, Lady." He righted himself and sat up in the chair, eyes fixed on her.

*Olst!* The man appeared in the doorway a moment later, waiting cautiously. She could almost purr. "Enter." He stepped over the threshold, awaiting orders.

"I don't like that Roxana girl snooping around," she said, more to herself then to the men watching her, then turned to Olst. "I want you to follow her. Report to me what she's doing." The surprise and protest in his eyes was masked immediately. "She is attending a university in Lidalli. I would start searching for her there."

"Lady, if you don't mind me asking, why are we watching her? She is a mere witch who wears only the Rose."

"She is a personal friend of Adele Ashlyn, and…" Aveline's eyes became menacing, her features demonic as they glowed in the firelight, "And she's too smart for her own good."

**5/Delacova**

Roxana sat at a desk back in her own room in Delacova, waging a fierce internal war with herself. There was definitely something up with that woman, Aveline Lathan—so many things about her didn't add up. When they had first met the Black Widow, she hadn't taken Aveline to be the type who would visit her little brother halfway across the territory. So what was she doing in Tawnar?

And where had she come from? Roxana had been watching the village, and Aveline claimed to have just visited Adam, yet she had somehow snuck up behind Roxana. There was nothing else around that landing web except a small, remote road and dense forests. It was as if she had simply popped up from nowhere to… Roxana stopped dead. It was as if Aveline knew she had been there to see Adam and stopped her from doing that. The woman seemed to know a lot about her, but she hadn't been aware that Roxana was lying about being in Tawnar to see Khevin.

And _Vincent!_ Why was Vincent in Tawnar with Aveline? When they'd left, Roxana hadn't felt the usual sensation when someone around her caught the Winds. If they hadn't caught the Winds, then they had gone…into the forest. Roxana narrowed her eyes. There were too many questions surrounding Aveline, she was too closely connected to too many things for Roxana's taste.

There were too many questions and too few answers.

* * *

As night fell over Delacova, Roxana stood outside of the gate that led to the Lathan family estate. This was quite possibly the dumbest thing she had ever done in her life. She knew she should contact one of the others for help before going into the mansion, but a sick, uneasy feeling gripped her and wouldn't let go until it had some answers. She was getting dangerously close to something big.

But she wouldn't do anything until darkness covered the village completely, so she settled down for a bit of a wait.

* * *

*Lady, Roxana Lavelle is outside of the Lathan Estate.* Olst licked his lips nervously as Aveline's confusion, then anger, flooded through the connection.

*She's _where?_*

*At your old residence, Lady.* There was a pause, and he knew her dark mind was calculating. *Should I…deal with her?*

*No, let her enter. Do not interfere with her at all. And don't let anyone else get in the way, either.*

He blinked, unsure he had heard her right. *L-Lady?*

*I want to see what she is after.* Her voice softened. *We will take care of her when the time is right, don't worry. Just watch her closely and report whatever she finds. And _only_ that.*

Olst slumped against the tree he had been resting on to watching the witch. *Yes, Lady.*

He would let her go this time. Olst licked his lips as he took in the girl's crouching figure in the fading twilight. She was a lovely catch. His mouth twisted into a grin. _You get away this time. But no matter, I'll have you soon, girlie.

* * *

_

An hour later, and the Lathan Estate was covered by night and, thank the Darkness, a few clouds, so there was little moonlight to see by. Roxana stood and wrapped herself in her most powerful sight and aural shields possible. Of course, since she only wore the Rose, they wouldn't be foolproof; she would still have to be stealthy.

_It's now or never._ Roxana took a deep breath and crept out of the brush, walking towards the gate. Luckily for her, it was open. She walked through and up the drive towards the house. Now it was just a matter of finding a servant's entrance, and she walked around the house until she found a back entrance that led to the kitchen.

Even though she knew she could make a little noise, possibly even talk, Roxana was as silent as a mouse, even afraid that her breathing would give her away as she made her way to the private quarters. It wasn't exactly difficult to find Aveline's room: even though the scent was worn, the woman's foul psychic scent remained, and it led her to a wing high in the mansion that Roxana dreaded to be in for any amount of time. The walls were permeated with the stink of malice and an undercurrent of fear.

Roxana's breathing quickened as she stumbled into the room and began looking around. Her fingers shook as the intense feeling pressed in on her. It was as if she were trapped by the violence of this place; the terror of it was overwhelming, like it was watching her. The girl stumbled to a desk and began looking through its contents.

Most of it was just junk, useless scraps and letters. Roxana was on the verge of giving up and running out of the room just to escape the horrible feeling when a signature caught her eye on the bottom of a rather short letter. _Dorothea._ Roxana sucked in a breath and pocketed the letter before practically running out of the room, leaving it and its terrible psychic scent behind her.

**6/Delleva**

"So, explain to me again _why_ we are sitting here in this stuffy-ass tea room in these tight-ass formal clothes?"

Adele closed her eyes and attempted to block out the sound of Delphine's voice, all while remaining perfectly still and seemingly unaffected by the constant barrage of complaints. She. Would. Not. Scream.

"Because," she began again slowly, "Roxana asked to meet us here, and it sounded important, which is why I asked you to come." Adele glanced at her little sister skeptically. "But now I'm beginning to regret it."

Delphine gave Adele a likewise show of gratitude.

Adele ignored her sibling, and turned her head back towards the door. "I can't believe you're going to be sixteen next month. Why did Christine have to attend that meeting with the Province Queen and leave me stuck with you?"

Before Delphine could reply, a soft knock sounded at the door. "Come in!" the two said at the same time, and the door opened to reveal Roxana, whom Adele hadn't seen since her last visit from Lidalli in summer.

"Roxana!" Adele burst from her seated position and ran to embrace her friend.

"So much for formal," Delphine said under her breath, which Adele pretended not to hear.

"Sit, please," Adele said as she released Roxana and reseated herself.

"Thanks," Roxana said, suddenly shy.

_Odd_, Adele thought—Roxana was naturally shy around masses of people, or people she didn't know, but with herself and Delphine? She laughed it off as Delphine launched into an animated joke to lighten the mood, and Adele shot her sister a little rueful smirk. _Anything to kill the formal atmosphere.

* * *

_

"So, Roxana, you asked us to meet you?" Adele prodded after the three had gotten a chance to catch up. Roxana wasn't going to avoid the point of this little visit any longer.

"Yes. Well, I actually wanted to ask you a favor, Adele." Her friend fidgeted with her cup, nervous again.

"All right, just ask."

"Well, I'm doing a bit of research, you see, and…well, I was wondering if you could arrange a meeting with Lord Roland."

Adele's face fell at once. "I'm sorry, Roxana, that won't be possible."

"What? Why not? Surely you could talk to him and see-"

"Lord Roland is dead, Roxana."

Stunned silence filled the room. "Dead?" The word hung in the air, defiling it.

Adele nodded and took a breath. "I'm sure you know that Lord Roland is…was in the service of Lady Nevelle, a high-ranking scholar and researcher. He specialized in foreign affairs, and he used to be an ambassador to the Territory Queen in his prime. In age, he served Lady Nevelle as a scholar."

"Yes, I…was seeking him out because of that. What-"

"A victim of one of the 'accidents'." Adele laughed softly. "Roland was a friend of mine."

"I'm so sorry, Adele, I didn't know."

Adele huffed out a breath and smiled at her friend. "But I can help you, at least a little. Roland had an assistant, one he had been working with for the past few years. I could introduce you to her."

"Thank you so much, Adele."

Adele stood, and the girls embraced. "Meet me tomorrow afternoon at my room and I'll take you to meet her." Roxana just nodded and stepped aside for Adele to pass.

* * *

When Adele was gone, Roxana turned to Delphine.

"That was quite a display. Must be important for you to come all the way here." Delphine's eyes turned sharp as she studied Roxana. "Important enough for you to take a semester off to 'research'."

Roxana winced and laughed as she sank back into her chair. "Not much gets past Adele, does it? I actually wanted to talk with you, too."

"Oh?" Delphine raised an eyebrow. "Without Adele?"

Roxana nodded. "I don't want to worry her."

Amusement crossed Delphine's face as she turned fully to face Roxana. "But you're willing to worry me? All right, shoot."

"I'm trying to find out about what is happening in Tirrador."

Delphine shrugged, "a lot of things are happening in Tirrador."

Roxana slammed her hand down onto the table. "The taint!" Delphine remained silent, but Roxana knew she was listening seriously now. "Listen to me, Delphine: something is wrong, and I'm trying to find out what it is." Her hand slid off the table, and Roxana took a breath. "I snuck into Aveline Lathan's house and-"

"You _what_?" Delphine sprang from her chair with a litany of curses, pacing a tight line. She turned on Roxana, then. "I always figured you to be the most logical out of all of us, but-"

"I found a letter from Dorothea SaDiablo."

Delphine stopped mid-stride and turned on Roxana as she pulled out the piece of paper and offered it to Delphine, who snatched it from Roxana's hand and crossed the room, reading it as her friend continued.

"It doesn't say anything interesting, but why would the High Priestess of Hayll be chatting with a Black Widow from an aristo family in a remote Territory?"

Delphine stopped pacing and looked at the signature. "She wouldn't be." she said softly. Her hazel eyes snapped to Roxana's, fiery and hell-bent, pinning her to her seat. "Breaking into an aristo household, stealing a letter—what the hell else have you been doing without an escort, or even any protection to speak of, Roxana?" she shouted.

The other girl winced and looked down. "I went to Tawnar to see Adam," she mumbled under her breath.

The room exploded. "YOU DID _WHAT_?" Fury came rolling off of the young Black Widow in waves as she stared daggers into the older girl. "ROXANA, YOU HAVE GOT TO BE THE MOST-"

"I went into Aveline's house because of what I saw in Tawnar."

"JUST WAIT UNTIL I TELL CHRIS. HE'S GOING TO-"

"I saw Aveline in Tawnar, and she stopped me before I could get to the village to see Adam."

Delphine stopped and just stared at her, absorbing Roxana's words. Roxana just let them tumble out after that. "I don't know how she knew I was there, or how I know she was there to stop me, I just do. She didn't want me to see Adam, or him to see me, and-" Roxana paused for the first time and looked up at Delphine with small, cautious eyes.

"Delphine, why was Vincent with her?" she asked softly, dropping her gaze. When she got no response, she looked back up, then realized she had just unwittingly shoved verbal a blade into her friend's gut. She got to her feet and stumbled towards Delphine. "Oh, Delphine, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"How the hell should I know?" Delphine had turned her back on Roxana, her voice hardened and cold. "I don't associate myself with him anymore."

Roxana winced at the venom in her voice, but nodded. "So we know Aveline is somehow connected with Dorothea SaDiablo. She's not an enemy yet, but someone to be cautious of." Delphine said nothing. "I'll figure out what's going on, I swear. And Delphine?"

"What?"

"Don't tell Adele or Chris."

Roxana didn't have to see Delphine's face to know silent tears were falling to the floor, didn't have to see her face to see the pain of a woman who'd had her heart broken.

"I won't," she said softly.

* * *

_Chapter 9 Preview_

Adam's vision was doused in red as he advanced upon his enemy, the blood singing in his veins. Something within himself screamed a battle cry as the woman in front of him was knocked off her feet. Her golden-red hair scattered in every direction as she turned to face him, blue eyes wide in terror as the Warlord Prince advanced upon her. He raised his weapon high above his head.

_Kill her!_


	9. Chapter 9

Alright, here it is, the last chapter to Part 1 of Innocence of a Queen. As I've said before, I will be invested in Nano over the next month so I will put this aside, but pick it right back up during December. Seeing as this is a very dramatic chapter, I have music to go along with some of it: 2/A day Without Rain- Enya, 4/Hope-Apocalyptica, 8/Minas Tirith-LOTR and Shadow and Twilight-LOTR. (Note, for this chapter, begin music after the second break and keep it playing until the end of the chapter.) I hope you guys enjoy! Please leave comments! They make me immensely happy.

**~Chapter 9~**

**1/Delleva**

Roxana shifted nervously as she waited for Adele to answer the door. She had come the day after their meeting as asked. As much as she hated forcing Adele to revisit the pain of her loss, she needed to speak with this assistant of Lord Roland's immediately. Nonetheless, guilt flooded her as the door opened and she saw her friend's solemn expression.

She offered Adele a smile as she stepped aside to let her out. The other girl returned it, and things went more or less normally until they were standing outside a townhouse on a side street just away from the bustle of the city.

"I know you talked with Delphine about something," Adele said suddenly. There was no point in trying to deny it, and Roxana looked away uncomfortably as Adele continued, "It's all right, you don't have to tell me what it was; it was obviously private. I just know that Delphine was really upset afterwards and refused to talk to me about it."

Roxana wanted more than anything at that moment to tell Adele everything that had happened. The need was overwhelming, but Adele…she wouldn't understand yet. Besides, she was so busy with her apprenticeship and studies, and Roxana didn't want her having to worry about this until she herself had figured everything out.

"Adele, I promise I'll tell you everything…when the time is right."

Adele didn't look at her, obviously hurt by being left out. Roxana grabbed her by the shoulders.

"And I _swear_, Adele, I won't ever keep anything from you again. But please, give me time to figure this out. I _need_ time."

Adele looked up at her with watery eyes, then gave her a smile and nodded. "Okay, I trust you." Relief rushed through her as they embraced.

* * *

"I don't know what you're here about, or why Adele insisted we meet immediately, but you'd better make it quick."

Roxana followed the squirrely-looking apprentice through an incredibly messy townhouse, picking her way around piles upon piles of books, papers, and quills. She would have been fascinated by the content of the articles if they hadn't been arranged in such a chaotic way. Almost everything in the house was covered with a thin layer of dust except for the room they entered—someone hadn't touched any of this stuff for a while; Roxana felt a surge of pity for the girl.

"Going somewhere?" Roxana asked as she looked about the room.

If the rest of the house was in chaos, this room was utter madness. It looked like someone had literally used Craft to tumble the contents of the room in every feasible direction. A trunk, a few stacks of clothing, and piled books lay on the bed.

Zoe glanced up from the desk, where she had been rummaging through some papers. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm getting out of Delleva for a while. No way I'm gonna be next!" The girl pushed past Roxana and dumped a few more books into the trunk.

"So, Zoe, what exactly did Lord Roland specialize in, anyway?" she asked, aiming both at small talk and a subtle digression into the reason for her visit.

The girl looked to be about Roxana's age, though it was difficult to tell between of the glasses askew on her nose and the loose clothing. She looked up, as if seeing the other girl fully for the first time. "Master Roland was an expert in foreign affairs."

"That's a very general area. I'm sure he had a certain…specialty. The tainting of the Blood, perhaps?" Roxana leaned closer, but Zoe, unthreatened, just pushed up her glasses and squinted at her.

"You know too much to be healthy." When Roxana didn't say anything, she huffed and plopped down on the bed, causing a pile of precariously stacked books to topple over. Zoe either didn't notice or seem to care. "Yeah, you're right. Master Roland had a particular interest in how Blood society could become so tainted over a relatively short amount of time."

"A _short_ amount of time? How short?"

Zoe just smiled at her. "Short, in terms of the long-lived races."

Roxana just stared. "_Dorothea SaDiablo_."

**2/Delleva**

Adele Ashlyn sat on a large stone in the gardens behind the Amoria townhouse, listening to the soothing sound of the little waterfall trickling into her favorite pond. The foxtails surrounded and almost hid her seated figure, rustling as a breeze tickled them. She closed her eyes and smiled in pleasure as the wind brushed her hair against her face, as if caressing her. The waterfall lapped happily along the stones and ran into the still, cool pond. It wasn't so cold yet in the capital that one couldn't run their fingers through the water gently, but even had the water been freezing, Adele would have still touched it, just to feel a little closer to nature.

Only the softest sound of bare feet on grass made Adele aware that someone was behind her, and she closed her eyes, opening her inner barriers a little. Just a taste of the pure mind that touched hers told Adele exactly whom it belonged to. She smiled softly, blue eyes sliding to take in Christine's form as her friend sat beside her without a sound.

Sitting among the grass and plants, with her green hair and cool skin, Christine looked like a nymph from the stories she had been told as a girl. She was so still, so in tune with her surroundings, it was as if she had just gown into being right there, sitting next to the pond. Adele looked back at the pond, longing to slip into its serene, inviting waters, just to get away from the human world and its woes, if only for a moment.

"Something troubles you," Christine breathed. Her voice was so soft that Adele was sure if the wind was given a voice, it would sound like that.

Faced with such an inquiry, how could she lie? "Yes, I…spoke with Lady Nevelle about Adam." Human fear burst in her stomach, disrupting the peaceful state she had so carefully worked on in the garden. "She was concerned. Very concerned. She's already written the inquiry to Lady Jesiah in Tawnar, asking about Adam."

She looked up at Christine, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Christine, what if…"

"Shh."

Christine gathered Adele into her arms, and Adele felt a soothing spell being wrapped around her, woven into Christine's fingers skillfully as she stroked Adele's long hair. She felt it but did nothing to fight it, wouldn't fight anything that would help block out the maddening fear that something had happened to Adam.

"You've done everything you could do. Trust the fates to do the rest," the wind whispered into Adele's ear. Adele held onto her like a child would to her mother, slow tears slipping down her face and onto Christine's white dress.

She didn't even notice as Christine braided a sleeping spell into her soothing spell, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she gradually became heavier, wrapped lovingly into the spell like in the petals of a night flower, closing back up in the face of the morning light.

**3/Amasca**

"So you still haven't told me about this 'childhood friend' of yours, Deveraux," Blaise pointed out annoyingly as they made their way to the practice rings just after breakfast. The two had become quite close as the months had passed.

It had been almost a year since Chris had fled the pain of his home village and come to the Veranthis Mountains as a Fourth Circle guard in Lady Marrisan's court. They had trained him well in that time, polishing skills that were already sharp to a knife's edge. Chris was one of the best rookies they had among the guards, even the trained, and had been officially accepted into service in early spring after his initial training as a recruit along with Blaise. Now they served side by side, and had forged a strong bond in that time. Even so, Chris couldn't bring himself to talk too much about his own past—or, rather, about his feelings from his past. Blaise already knew about Adele, Roxana, Delphine, and his brother Jeremy. He knew all about Delacova and its inhabitants, but as much as his canine-like friend tried to push Chris to talk about his problems with Adele, he wouldn't budge. Or hadn't yet.

Why was he always pushing one of his only friends away? He thought about it as the early snow crunched under their feet, walking to the rings and sitting on the logs, watching the warm-up matches and waiting for their turn. He'd tried so hard to get to know Chris, had told him everything about himself, so why did Chris feel the need to guard himself? He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked at the snow between his feet. But his thoughts weren't there; they were far away at his home village, in Delacova.

"I met Adele when we were both little, just after we'd gone through our Birthright Ceremonies. I've…always had trouble making friends." He laughed softly. "I'd come away wearing the Green, a substantially darker jewel than any of the other children. It was so much harder to make friends after that, because of my nature and…now my strength.

"Then, one day I saw some kids making fun of a little girl with beautiful blonde-red hair. They were teasing her about something or other, pushing her in a circle. I'd…never felt anything like what I felt at that moment, when I saw them hurting _her_. It was this insane hunger, this _need_ to protect her, to be near her always. It was as natural as breathing, something I couldn't fight, just as you can't fight the need for food. She is my food." Chris laughed, knowing how odd that sounded.

"Needless to say, I beat the snot out of those boys, and I've protected Adele with everything in me since then. I've been her companion, playmate, shoulder to cry on, and everything in between. It was only natural for me to fall in love with her."

Blaise had listened quietly until now, his gold eyes filled with understanding. "But she didn't fall back."

Chris shook his head. "I know she loves me, it's just…not the same. I waited too long to tell her, and before I knew it, she had shown real interest in someone else, and I was left out in the rain, literally." He chuckled to cover the pain.

"But you saw her for her birthday," Blaise hedged.

"Yeah, it was great. She hasn't changed at all." Chris leaned back, bracing his hands on the log as he looked up at the clear blue sky. "I used to think that loving her was because of my connection to her as a Queen, my being a Warlord Prince, but it's different. Because even knowing I can't have her romantically, doesn't change my devotion to her as a Warlord Prince."

Blaise smirked at him. "So, basically, plain old non-Warlord-Prince-Chris has to get over Adele and get on with his life?" He stood from the log and offered Chris a hand up.

Chris grinned at his friend, taking it. "Exactly."

"You really to find a new girl. You should meet my sister," Blaise suggested as they selected their weapons and headed over to the practice ring. They began to fight, circling elegantly around each other, throwing feints and jabs with no real connections. Both were skilled fighters, but Chris was a natural warrior. "Oh?" he asked as he parried and returned one of Blaise's attacks. "What's she like?"

"Dominique? Oh, she's a piece of work, let me tell you. She'll sooner put you in the dirt than talk with a man."

"I think I'm in love."

Blaise's full-throated laugh rang through the still, snowy mountains as he swung his blade.

**4/Tawnar**

Metal clanged as Adam parried Khevin's attack and pushed him back. He spun the bladed stick he held in a graceful arc before bringing it down upon his sparring partner. As invigorating as his matches with Khevin always were, this time it just wasn't enough to pull him away from his lately all-consuming thoughts.

At first there had been room for only pain as he thought of Adele: how she didn't really want him, to her he was just a tool, she was just like all the others. The one woman he'd thought was different, whom he'd thought he could trust. Just when he'd thought it was safe to come out of his shell—no, he'd been so wrong to think it was ever safe to love. All Adam wanted to do was hide, to crawl into some deep hole and stay there until he could face the world again. From a dark place of pain and fear, a voice had whispered to him, soft, coaxing, and oh so inviting. It suggested things like payback and vengeance.

_Make her feel the pain you've felt, make her pay for _all_ of them!_

He calmly dodged a swipe aimed for his head, watching the blade sweep past his face as if in slow motion, and twisted his body skillfully to get into an attacking position.

At first, he'd ignored that little voice; whatever Adele may be, she didn't deserve his vengeance, at the very least. She was a Queen.

_Why not?_ the voice had asked. _What has she ever done for you? Queens aren't exempt from payback when it is due._

And the truth was, Adam couldn't think of a single thing.

The heat of the battle swept him away, the sweet caress of the violence as he danced with Khevin, the zing in his veins; just the thought of bloodletting and pain teased his instincts. Time seemed to slow to the steady beating of his heart. The Warlord Prince in him howled with hunger.

_Yes._

He _wanted_ to feel real skin bruise under his hands, see her blood run.

_Yes!_

He _needed_ to see someone pay for all the times they had tried to use him. And she had hurt him the worst of all of them.

His blade stung the air, whipping faster and faster. Adam watched as the concentration on Khevin's face slowly changed to strain just touched with fear as he drove him back, taking pleasure in seeing his prey cornered.

His vision was doused in red as he advanced upon his enemy, blood singing in his veins. Something within him screamed a battle cry as the woman in front of him was knocked off her feet. Her golden-red hair scattered in every direction as she turned to face him, blue eyes wide with terror as the Warlord Prince advanced upon her. He raised his weapon high above his head.

_Kill her!_

"Prince Lathan, ATTEND!" A harsh, female voice backed by threatening power shook him.

Adam blinked and looked down to see Khevin, not Adele, sprawled on the ground, hazel eyes wide. He was standing over his best friend, weapon raised high above his head, a moment away from killing him.

Lady Jesiah swept into view a moment later, calm and in control, but also deadly furious. Her Purple-Dusk Jewel flashed from its ebony mount on her neck. Thin, tribal tattoos were inked onto her body here and there, spiders and webs the predominant theme of the artwork, signifying that she was a powerful Black Widow. And right now, all that power focused on him as Jesiah whipped her head, with its short, dramatically chopped hair, towards him; red-brown eyes pinned him to the spot.

"Leash your temper, Prince." Adam's eyes slipped to the ring finger of her right hand, where, sure enough, he could see the very tip of her snake tooth that rested just below the fingernail, ready to pump him full of her venom should he threaten anyone else. "_Now_."

He stepped away from Khevin with a grace that would have made even the Sadist, Daemon Sadi, envious, eyes on Jesiah. Not quite wholly free from the spell the bloodlust had on him, he smiled softly, almost mockingly at her. She who had taught him so much already, who had shown him how to survive in the wilderness, had also taught him everything he knew about poisons.

She narrowed her eyes, studying Adam too closely for comfort. "You are walking a path of darkness and destruction. If you continue down it, only pain awaits."

He only smiled in response; Jesiah glared.

"So you care nothing of the prophecy?" she asked, raising her voice.

"I don't believe in anything but me."

Jesiah shook with fury. "TIRRADOR WILL FALL! ADELE WILL DIE! EVERYONE YOU LOVE-"

With a howl of rage, Adam threw himself towards her, Green power blazing, and hit a shield. The two powers sizzled and snarled as they fought.

"YOU THINK YOU KNOW WHAT I CARE ABOUT? YOU HAVE NO IDEA…"

Adam struggled against the shield before pulling back, blinking in surprise as he realizing something: the only one strong enough to stop him was…

Turning, he saw Khevin, standing now and looking sick with fear, but determined, a hand outstretched to feed the shield that had stopped Adam from reaching Jesiah. Eyes widening, he looked into Khevin's fathomless, emotions swirling. He started to shake, backing away from Jesiah, from Khevin. What had he done?

Without even thinking, Adam spun around and ran.

**5/Tawnar**

"Adam!"

Khevin moved to go after his friend, but held himself back, looking at Jesiah. She pinned him with those red-brown eyes.

"Lord Tannsley, pursue him with a hunting party of your choice. Bring him back unharmed, if you can. _ Do not kill him!"_ She turned on the men that had come forward as she said the last, then turned back to Khevin. "If you are endangered, or if it's impossible to bring him back unscathed, leave him and come back." He started to protest, "_That_, Warlord, is an order."

He swallowed his arguments and knelt in front of her. "Yes, Lady."

He stood and sent messages on a handful of spear threads. The men nodded, heading off to gather their weapons and gear as Khevin headed toward his own hut. Minutes later, accompanied by the hunting group, he ran through the forest, hooded as they all were. The hunters of Tawnar were mere shadows in the wilderness. They made no noise as they stalked their prey. Of course, since their target was Adam, someone they themselves had trained in the art of stealth, it wasn't easy. But then, Adam had only been among them for a year; the tribesmen of Tawnar had tracked their whole lives.

After he had tried to mentally contact Adam the first time, and had been blocked out, Khevin had abandoned that form of finding him. It seemed they would have to do it the old fashioned way. He signaled them to stop with a swift hand motion as he saw a deeper footprint: he was running. Adam knew they were following. With another silent signal, the hunting party took wing through the brush.

* * *

Hours later, Khevin and his hunting party knelt in front of Lady Jesiah.

"I'm sorry, Lady." He'd wanted to believe against reason that they could find Adam and somehow bring him back, but deep down Khevin had known they wouldn't. Adam wore a darker jewel than everyone in the village but him. They could have been within feet of him and never known it: if Adam didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be.

Khevin looked up to see Jesiah, staring at a web, biting a fingernail. "I'd known he was struggling, but I'd hoped he would be able to work whatever was troubling him on his own. And then this letter came."

"Lady?" A piece of paper appeared and floated over to Khevin; he stood and took it, read it. "This is—"

She nodded. "A formal inquiry regarding a Warlord Prince in my service because he couldn't be contacted repeatedly by a member of Lady Nevelle's court. A certain young Queen."

_Adele!_ So she hadn't been ignoring Adam! Although Adam had long ago stopped talking about her and her continuing silence, Khevin had known it had worn on his friend in a terrible way. He narrowed his eyes as another thought occurred. _So then, why?_

_ If Adele had been trying to contact Adam all this time, and he her, what had happened?_

Guilt stabbed him in the gut. _What am I going to tell Adele?_

Khevin looked up at Jesiah. "Lady, with your permission, I'd like to go to the capital to inform Lady Nevelle of Adam's behavior…and to tell Adele."

She knows about them, he thought as a knowing look passed over the Black Widow's face, though it was gone a moment later. Best not to ask how a Sister of that Hourglass Coven knew.

"Very well. You'll leave in the morning."

**6/Dorhaven**

"Curse it!"

Roxana slammed her hand down onto the paper, smearing the fresh ink and the words she had written. Hissing in pain when her quill stabbed her—probably exacting revenge for destroying all of its hard work—she balled her hand into a fist before jerking it away. Brown eyes, usually calm and pleasant, were filled with worry and anger as she stared at the crumpled paper, spilled black ink slowly mixing with her own blood.

She had been working on deciphering the papers Zoe had given her a little over a month ago in the capital. In that small amount of time, so much had changed, both inside herself and in her Territory, but no one else could see it. Roxana bit her finger, remembering the conversation between herself and the late Roland's quirky assistant.

_"Dorothea SaDiablo."_

The name hung in the air between them, defiling the dusty morning air of the townhouse. Zoe studied her with large, narrowed, brown eyes framed behind even larger glasses. When she had reached some internal conclusion, the girl huffed. "I guess I can't stop you. You're going to try, whatever I tell you."

Before Roxana could even attempt to decipher the girl's words, she had hopped off the bed and was gone. The sound of papers, drawers, and books being tossed in great haste, along with a fair amount of cursing, emanated from various rooms in the house. Not knowing what else to do, Roxana decided the prudent thing was to sit there and keep her mouth shut.

Before long, Zoe appeared in the doorway, covered in quite a bit more dust than before, holding a stack of terribly organized books and papers. Whatever it was, it didn't look like much.

Roxana cocked her head in confusion, but Zoe just came forward and shoved the stack into Roxana's arms. She winced as the dust dirtied her clothes.

"Vanish those."

"What?"

Zoe gave her a hard look. She looked almost…nervous. "Just do it."

Roxana obeyed, and the girl wiped her hands on her pants hurriedly before turning to take a seat across from her, eyes piercing as she studied Roxana. "Lord Roland died because of that research."

Roxana's eyes just widened. What was she supposed to say to that?

"Your guess was right, but it's more than that. It's so much more complicated." The girl who had seemed so meek and squirrely moments before pinned Roxana with an intense stare. "You have to decipher those and finish his research…and do something he wasn't able to: make sure it gets into the right hands. And then—" Zoe stood and crossed the room quickly, shutting the suitcase messily and locking it with two smart snaps. "—you have to leave Tirrador."

"What?" Roxana jumped from the bed at that. "I can't just leave, Adele needs me, and-"

Zoe laughed softly, hoisting the suitcase in one arm. "Roland thought like that, too. Remember this, though, Lady Roxana Lavelle: if you stick your nose too far into a snake's hole, you'll get bit."

Roxana cursed, jerking her finger away as her teeth drew blood. She stared as the red liquid welled to the surface of her skin and began spilling out, down her hand. Adele could heal it—she could heal them all—but Roxana had to do her part first. Her eyes moved back to the ruined paper, at her blood mixing with the black ink. So much time had passed, and she was almost done decoding the words of Lord Roland, the secrets of his hard-bought research. There was just one more thing that eluded her.

She sighed deeply, dropping her hand. "Another trip into the village, I suppose." Decided, she turned, leaving her work scattered about her room and pausing only to don her cloak to protect her from the early winter chill. She closed the door behind her, turning the key, and considered adding a Rose lock as well, but decided against it. No one at the hostel she had been staying at had shown particular interest in a student doing private research away from the university, so Roxana saw no reason to arouse suspicion now. Besides, she was almost finished.

**7/Dorhaven**

He watched her leave the hostel hiding his smile with his cup as he sat at the coffee shop across the street. She pulled her cloak around her tightly, looking about as she crossed the street and passing within feet of him on her way to somewhere or other. Didn't matter; he had other orders today.

As she disappeared around the corner, Olst set his cup down and stood, paying his bill before heading over to the hostel. The Lady Roxana had kept very much to herself for the past month, making his job both very difficult and very boring. She'd come back to Lidalli after her little trip to the capital, but instead of heading back to her university, she had instead come to the little village of Dorhaven a day or so away and disappeared into the hostel.

So far, she hadn't left her room except for food and the occasional entertainment. So he'd waited patiently all this time, trusting that she'd leave at some point. Aveline wanted to know what the little girlie was doing and had been hounding him for weeks to sneak into her room. Now was his chance.

He slipped into a group of people, smoothly donning sight and aural shields. They passed the hostel, and he was through the door effortlessly. Not wasting any time, he went straight for Roxana's room. He could have done it in his sleep.

A few special Black Widow spells later, and Olst was standing in Roxana's room, finding himself surrounding by an ordered chaos he wouldn't think a neat girl could create. _Must be important—very important—for her to be so forgetful._ He smiled to himself as he began carefully going through her paperwork. He narrowed his eyes in confusion at first as he went through it, then began to rifle through even faster, eyes moving back and forth rapidly. His heartbeat and breathing quickened. Before he had read more than a handful of papers, he was in a sheer panic.

*Aveline!*

**8/Dorhaven**

Within an hour of going into the village, Roxana had returned to her room and set to work decoding the last of the papers. When she finished, she had spent a good hour or so combing through it, becoming more and more worried as she pieced together the message: Dorothea was using Aveline Lathan to slowly but thoroughly spread the fear and taint through Tirrador, letting the Blood choke themselves into submission before she came to sweep up the remaining resistance and claim Tirrador as her own.

"NO!" Roxana burst from her seat and began to pace furiously. There had to be something she could do! _Adele!_ Yes, she would tell Adele immediately! Roxana whirled and started for the door.

_But what if something happens?_ She paused, her hand on the doorknob. _She won't get the message and we'll all be doomed._ No, she would go to Adele and tell her, but just in case something went wrong, Roxana would also leave a message behind for her Queen. But how to hide it? Roxana looked around her room, her eyes catching her untouched bookcase of normal reading material. _That's it!_ She turned and sat back down at her desk, pushing her research aside as she began.

* * *

Not too much later, Roxana finished and destroyed the original notes Zoe had given her as well as her translations: they revealed too much to be left alone and could lead back to the assistant. Besides, she had it all in her head by now. Now all she had to do was go tell Adele. She glanced outside as she stood: it was dark already. Her face fell. Maybe she should wait—after all, she knew better than anybody how dangerous things were right now.

_She needs to know!_ a little voice hissed in the back of her head, making Roxana's heart pound with fear. _You know how much danger they are all in now. Do your part!_

Roxana stared out into the night. The fear suddenly left her, overtaken by purpose. They needed to know the danger they were in, even if it meant putting herself at risk.

_It has to be done, for their sake._

Determined now, Roxana turned and grabbed her cloak before heading into the night.

* * *

She was almost to the landing web to catch the Rose Wind when it happened. A stunning spell hit her square in the back, sending her sprawling across the damp ground. She groaned and rolled onto her back, peering into the darkness as a male came into view. He was pale, dressed in leather covered with buckles and studs. Despite the weather, he had much of his skin showing, displaying tattoos that snaked up his body, even his face. Piercings hung off him in several places.

Roxana took this all in as he grinned at her, stalking closer in the gloom. He giggled, seeming almost giddy with delight, and raised his hands as if to touch her. With a yell, she threw a blast of Rose power to repel him, forcing him back. He only grinned wider, as if her resistance amused him.

"Ooh, Kitty wants to play,"

His oily, slick voice caressed her, making her feel disgusted and overwhelmingly fearful. Who was he? Roxana put a shield around herself, shutting her inner barriers tightly as she stood, staring at him. His demeanor, his looks, and even his voice made her skin crawl.

Before she had completely righted herself, he blasted at her shield again, knocking her back but not off her feet. A second blow and her physical protection shattered. He ran forward with lightning speed, and Roxana saw the gleam of a blade in the moonlight. She sucked in a quick breath as she threw up a quick shield, stumbling backwards as he slashed at it, his blade laced with his own power and slicing through hers like butter.

"Boo!" he screamed as he slashed at her, cutting the arm she had lifted to defend herself from wrist to elbow. Roxana screamed in pain as she fell to the ground, and the man fell on top of her, giving her a smile that made her sick with fear.

"That's enough, Olst," a frightfully familiar voice called out from the surrounding darkness. The man looked up, and his face fell as Aveline Lathan appeared, as if conjured by the night itself. "…For now."

He grinned again, and Roxana took his moment of distraction to strike out at him, a well-aimed blast hitting him straight in the chest, knocking him off her with a grunt. Roxana stood, cradling her bleeding arm, and made a break for the landing web. If she could catch the Winds, she would be safe.

A moment later, she slammed into a psychic wall. She spent several more trying to break it before turning to see Aveline descending upon her. Roxana braced for a physical blow, but instead Aveline pried at Roxana's inner barriers. The man named Olst moved from behind Aveline, looking furious. She threw up a physical shield, which he began to batter himself against as Aveline attacked her mind, over and over and over.

Breathing hard, shaking from pain and fear, Roxana held the shield and desperately gripped the inner barriers of her mind shut, but her power was being drained at an alarming rate. She let out a sob of desperation; she was going to die. Her first inner barrier broke, exposing surface thoughts.

Aveline grinned at her, as if she knew what Roxana had just realized. "It's hopeless, Roxana. Surely you know that." She leaned towards the girl, speaking softly. "I know you know that. It was over the moment I convinced you to leave the safety of the hostel."

Roxana's eyes widened. "Y-you didn't, I decided to-"

"You weren't going to do it, were you?" Aveline smiled creepily. "I pushed you along, guided you with my…gifts, shall we say?" Aveline frowned, as if pouting. "Though you were quite resistant at first. But not for long."

As she spoke, Roxana's shield broke, and Olst pushed her down, began making quick, surface gashes in her skin, drawing blood and fear to the surface. Roxana screamed in pain but didn't use Craft to fight—she had to protect herself mentally. _Aveline is a Black Widow!_

Aveline threw her head back and laughed as she attacked Roxana's mind. "That's right, girl. I'm going to pick your mind apart once I pry it open and go through it at my leisure, find out _everything_ you know. Everything about Chris, everything about Delphine and Christine, and I'm going to find out every, single, little shred of information you know about Adele!" she said, spacing out her words.

"Nooo!" she cried out in agony, drawing bone-chilling laughter from the male on top of her.

"The fear in her blood is delicious, Aveline." He licked his blade, staring down at her menacingly. "I want more." Roxana shivered under him, going pale from blood loss and effort.

"Isn't it, though?" Aveline said softly, looking down at the trembling figure. "I'm quite enjoying her mental anguish. Now then." The woman began to viciously slam against Roxana's inner barriers, straining her Rose Jewel to its breaking point. It was almost completely drained now, but she had to hold on.

Olst began to inflict deeper wounds into her body, but she was barely aware of her body bleeding out, so focused was she on defending her mind from Aveline's attacks. The woman pounded on her barriers again and again, but Roxana gritted her teeth and held on stubbornly, straddling the thin line of her own strength, teetering on the edge of breaking herself by drawing too much from her Jewel to defend her mind.

One more push, and Roxana's Rose Jewel shattered, suddenly going dim as she opened her eyes wide, her mouth forming a silent, strangled scream. It was so…incredibly painful. Aveline leaned her head back, as if basking in Roxana's torment, and then she descended, her hands grabbing either side of Roxana's head.

She was completely defenseless; that witch was going to see into her mind, see everything she knew about all her friends, all their secrets, and see her plans, see how to find her message to Adele…Roxana choked on a sob.

Helplessness gripped her tightly, holding her captive as Aveline reached for her. Her Jewel was shattered, her strength gone, body broken, mind cracked open like an egg. But she felt sort of…numb. Roxana felt her limbs going cold and knew death was approaching. Aveline's stupid subordinate had cut his victim too deeply, too quickly. She was bleeding out. Roxana opened her eyes and looked into Aveline's, a slight smile on her face. "I guess you aren't going to win after all."

Roxana watched the fury building on Aveline's face kept smiling as she let out her last breath and became no more than a whisper in the Darkness.

_Adele…_


	10. Chapter 10

Hello all, and thank you for your patience with me. It's taken a bit long for me to get this out, I know, but I promise you, it will all be worth it in the end! I have two songs for this chapter. Tempus Vernum/Deora Ar Mo Chroi by Enya at the start of the chapter. After that, just keep the song on rolling into Our Farewell by Within Temptation. And just so you all appreciate this, I'll have you know I cried during this chapter at select parts. I'll leave it to your judgement to figure out which part that was. Anyway, hope you all had a Happy Holiday season. I plan on getting back on the horse for this story, even though it seems I might be losing my wonderful editor, The Diamond Sorceress, at least temporarily. This might hold up updates in the future, but I'm not certain of that yet. Thanks for sticking around guys!

~Kerie

* * *

**~Chapter 10~**

**1/Del****leva**

Adele laughed breathlessly as she ran through the snowy streets of Delleva, her home away from home. She was bundled from head to foot, carrying a large number of packages in her arms as she ran, her cheeks and nose red from the cold. She laughed again as she looked behind her, then yelled in disappointment as a green streak flew past her towards the townhouse.

"No fair, Christine!" she whined as she huffed up the steps into the cozy townhouse. Christine and Marius were already stripping out of their snow gear, their packages set down neatly.

Christine laughed, turning around as she unwrapped a scarf from her neck and shook her hair out gracefully. "It's not my fault you had so many presents."

The three had been out Winsol shopping: the most sacred of holidays was less than a month away, and Adele had to admit, she _did_ have more people to shop for now that she had to get everyone presents from home and from Delleva.

"For my part, I think it's your freakishly long legs," the second place loser put in.

Christine whirled around, scowling at him. "I'll have you know, it's not _my_ fault that I-" Christine stopped suddenly. "Grandmama?" The concerned tone in her voice made Adele's stomach ball up in fear. She and Marius both looked up at Christine's Grandmother.

The elderly woman looked at her granddaughter, then at Marius, and finally those ancient eyes settled on Adele. Adele felt her heart beating faster, felt like her whole body was pulsing with it it was so strong. She wanted with everything in her to speak, to ask Lady Amoria what was wrong, but she couldn't bring herself to speak.

"It's Roxana, dear…she's…she's been murdered. She's…dead."

The room felt heavy instantly. A moment ago, Adele had felt like her heart was so loud, everyone in the room could feel it. Now it felt like it had stopped completely. The breath left her body; she felt hot, her body stiff and limp at the same time as a great gap opened inside her, a hole left by the sudden absence of her childhood friend, her Roxana. Adele gasped in pain, clutching her chest, starting to bend over, pulling deep within herself, trying to hide from the pain as it gathered, gathered. Everything started to go grey, except the pain got stronger, a stinging, horrible pain that needed to be let out, released.

"_Roxanaaaaaaaaaaa!"_

Christine hadn't even realized that Adele had descended to the Opal, to her inner web, until it was almost too late. Suddenly she felt this awful sort of psychic hole coming from within her friend, as if she had opened a deep chasm in herself and would draw in everything around her. She shivered in fear, staring, even as the chasm began widening, pushing its terrible presence outwards.

The witch storm began to howl, its power fed by Adele's terrible pain. Christine looked around as the curtains began to shred in the growing wind, tears starting to form in the furniture. Then a horrible, anguished cry snapped Christine's eyes back to Adele as she wailed in pain, unleashing the full force of the witch storm into the room.

The three of them only had a moment to snap shields around themselves as Adele unleashed a belt of power outwards from her. She shattered their shields easily and it took everything in Christine to follow behind Marius, fighting the storm to get to the eye of it. They both tackled Adele to the ground.

"Adele, stop!" she screamed, not sure if Adele could hear her over the howling of the storm. She looked down to see Adele's eyes blank and staring, and her stomach dropped in panic. "ADELE!" She shook her friend. *Adele!* She wasn't even sure Adele knew where she was anymore, or that she was among friends. *Adele, please stop.* she sobbed.

Adele blinked and looked at Christine as a teardrop fell onto her cheek.

"Christine?" Never had she heard her friend sound more vulnerable.

"I'm here, honey."

Adele crumbled and fell into hysterics like Christine had never seen before. Sobs racked her body so violently Christine was afraid she'd break. They curled up together, Christine holding her tightly, letting her unleash the pain rather than the violence.

There would be time for that later.

**2/Delacova**

Christine Amoria looked at herself in the mirror. She was wearing a long, formal black dress for this most solemn of occasions. Before now, she hadn't even owned anything black. She hated how it looked.

She thought back on the last week, on her friend who had been affected by this tragedy. Christine watched her own eyes narrow in pain, remembering how Adele had spent the time since she'd heard the news—the days of crying, sobbing, praying to the Darkness to give Roxana back while cursing it the next. It was so painful to watch and listen to. She'd looked away, unable to bear the sight of such pain, tried selfishly to block out the sound of Adele's terrible throes while she knew her friend needed her.

She felt horrible, worse than horrible for trying to ignore Adele, but it was staggering to her, to see someone so innocent and full of life have to go through something like this. Christine studied her own face in the mirror again, then turned away in disgust.

It was time.

**3/Delacova**

It was snowing when they buried her friend. Adele just stared blankly as they walked at the front of the procession to the cemetery. The skirt of her dress was ringed in white as she walked beside Chris, who looked about the same as she. He looked over at her every so often, but for the most part he remained closed off, locked within his own thoughts. Delphine walked on the her other side, and for once she had absolutely nothing to say. The weather seemed to know Adele's mood exactly, a soft, but sharp, cold pain from deep within that she could not fight off no matter how many layers she wore.

The snow fell gently, with no wind to impede its descent to the ground or disturb it from whence it fell. It didn't even matter that she felt numb on the outside—now she was simply the same on the outside and the inside.

The sight of the little cemetery was absolutely breathtaking as they came up to it. The place was blanketed with a layer of snow, each gravestone covered with a soft layer, like the hand of a friend comforting another. Understanding and warm. Except the hand was cold and unfeeling.

Feeling a burst of sadness, Adele looked down at her feet padding slowly over the snow. The procession of people she loved most in the world passed through the gate of the cemetery to the place where her friend would remain forever.

She swallowed suddenly and felt Chris immediately grab her hand. She squeezed it back and fought the empty pain in her chest as the people started to fan out around them and gather around. Adele watched as they set Roxana's coffin down and began to cover it in beautiful white flowers.

Adele knew what her face, what her eyes must look like; blank orbs, empty of anything at all. She just watched as the Priestess came forward and began to speak. Adele couldn't even hear the words; the woman's voice was just a muffled, low murmur. It didn't matter that she couldn't understand it; nothing she could say would help her.

All too soon, the Priestess stopped speaking, and the gatherers fell into a hush. It was time to say goodbye. The word haunted Adele as they all began to gather about the grave and watch her beloved lowered into the ground forever.

Fear suddenly filled her, gripped her in its ugly claws and refused to let go. The horrible mortality of it all suddenly dawned on her. This was it, the time when she was supposed to let go forever. She wouldn't be allowed to hold on to Roxana any longer. Tears filled her eyes, and her throat closed tightly as she watched them begin to lower the coffin—no, Roxana, into the earth.

"Roxana!" Her voice was anguished as she reached out. _I don't want to let you go! I don't want to see you buried! I want you to stay, don't you see?_

But all she could do was watch as her friend disappeared into the hole and they covered her forever.

**4/Delacova**

Khevin Tannsley walked up the snowy path to the cemetery. He didn't know why he was going—he hadn't even known Roxana very well, he simply felt compelled to do so, as if he were being guided. His only memories of the girl were from the party where he had met Adele and all her friends, and the Fall Festival. The two had danced a few times, and Khevin had even been interested in her for a while, but he'd known he would be leaving again for Tawnar soon, and hadn't wanted to get too invested. That had been the horrible irony of it.

He rounded the corner and came upon the beautiful little cemetery, blanketed in snow on this chilly winter's morning. It was simply breathtaking. He carefully opened the gate and went in, instantly spotting the group where Adele would be. Khevin approached as they finished and began to disperse. A small crowd of young people remained—and he knew who was at the center of it.

While they mourned, Khevin waited patiently, feeling soft pity for their pain. They were so young. He felt oddly out of place among such innocent mourning.

Finally they broke away, still forming a loose circle around the young Queen. Khevin caught his breath as he saw her; she was still beautiful, just in a…different sort of way, like the lingering, bittersweet beauty of a dead rose. She was deathly pale, eyes hollow and expression almost dead but for the sharp, lingering pain in her eyes. He wanted more than anything to comfort her.

Khevin stepped forward and spoke softly. "Adele." It was almost a question.

She looked up slowly and met his eyes, puzzled at first. "Khevin?"

He paused. What now? Could he really tell Adele about Adam now, at her weakest moment?

He cocked his head to the side just a bit and gave her a soft, sad smile. "I'm so sorry."

He reached out on instinct and wrapped his arms around her, and was shocked to feel how cold she was against him. Someone cleared their throat, and Khevin looked up to see the other Warlord Prince, Christopher, giving him a stern look. As Khevin stared at him, though, his expression softened; if anyone understood the need to comfort a devastated Queen, it was he. As the rest of Adele's friends surrounded them, Khevin knew she would be well taken care of.

**5/Delacova**

Delphine stood outside Adele's room, staring at the door. She was very familiar with this particular door: she'd knocked, banged, almost broken down, and even opened it without knocking in the years the girls had lived here. This door held so many memories; be they good or bad, they were bonding memories. This time, Delphine wasn't so sure even those could save her.

She'd wanted to talk to Adele ever since the funeral, to tell her the part she'd played in this whole mess, but since then she'd found ten thousand reasons to avoid it. Adele was too distraught, too emotional, too peaceful-looking, surrounded by too many people trying to comfort her. Now Delphine had no excuses—Adele was alone in the room, and no one was coming to bother her for awhile.

Delphine swallowed and knocked on the door. She thought she could almost hear the resigned sigh from her sister, and fought back a smirk.

"Come." Her sister's voice was laced with annoyance—she'd been right. Well, that was a good start, anyway.

She opened the door, entering silently, and Adele put aside the book she'd been reading. Lately, Delphine had seen her sister escaping into a disturbing number of books. Her heart ached for her sister.

"You'd better have a good excuse for disturbing my limited alone time," Adele said, leaning back on her pillows. "I'm already swarmed with company, between Christine and the boys."

Delphine couldn't swallow back a merciless smile. "I heard you picked up another one—Adam's friend, Khevin."

Adele rolled her eyes. "Don't forget Blaise."

"Of course not." She gave her sister a soft smile, and Adele leaned forward, studying her face with a hint of worry.

"What is it, Delphine?"

She shifted uncomfortably and sat at the foot of the bed, not looking at Adele. "I have to tell you something about Roxana."

Stunned silence and dread met the statement.

"What about her?"

Delphine shifted again. "The last time I saw Roxana, she told me what she was doing." She paused as she felt the temperature in the room drop. Breathless, Delphine didn't dare look up at Adele. To see the cold fury in her beloved, gentle sister would be too painful. Then it all began to rush out.

"She said she'd been poking around, trying to figure out what's behind this taint and all. She didn't tell me what she'd found, only that she'd been to the Lathan Estate-"

"What?" The small whisper broke Delphine's heart. To have Adele's fury was one thing, but to hear this pain in her was another. Still, Delphine did not look at Adele.

"She was snooping around to find something on Aveline, not Adam." She paused to let Adele absorb this. "Roxana told me she'd found a letter from Dorothea SaDiablo, but it was just a simple letter, nothing big. Roxana also told me she'd…" Again, she paused, unsure of whether to continue.

"What?"

"She went to Tawnar to try to find Adam," Delphine said in a small voice. Absolute silence greeted the statement. "But Aveline stopped her, for some reason." Finally, Delphine turned to her sister. "Adele, I swear I didn't know this was going to happen. I mean, I knew it was dangerous, but if-"

Adele silenced her with a finger. "I don't know why Roxana went snooping around trying to find Adam, or why she'd be so interested in his sister, but it's probably the reason she's dead." Delphine winced, but Adele continued. "And you didn't tell anyone about this because she asked you not to?"

Delphine just shrank miserably.

"I don't know what she was looking into, but it was obviously something over her head. We shouldn't-"

Delphine snapped, all her self-consciousness melting away in an instant. How could she be like this? How could she just write off Roxana's death as "an accident," just like everyone else?

"That's a lie and you know it!" Delphine shouted as she burst from the bed, turning on Adele. "You know what she was doing was important, but you want to look the other way because it's too hard for you to think about your precious Adam, or to look at the facts when they are staring you in the face! Wake up! It's not all about him, and it's not all about you!"

Adele silenced her with a resounding slap. Delphine turned to look at her sister, who was breathing hard and furious. She breathed out slowly, trying to calm herself.

"I'm sorry, Adele. I didn't mean to reopen any old wounds, but you are a Queen, and it's your respon-"

"I'm not anyone's Queen," she said softly, so small and uncertain.

"You are my Queen!" Delphine said fiercely, coming up and grabbing her sister's hand. "You're our Queen," she amended softly. Adele wouldn't look her in the eyes. "And it's your responsibility. You know I'm right. You've always known, Adele. That's why you are who you are."

She let go and stepped away from her sister. Adele stared at the ground, her eyes swimming with warring emotions; she looked so lost. "Adele, can you forgive me?" she asked softly.

"Roxana is dead, Delphine." Adele looked up at her finally, but she found no salvation in those blue eyes. "I can't. Not right now," she whispered.

Delphine nodded and turned to leave, but she paused at the door. "I'm heading back to Trisor tomorrow, then. I'll see you around, Adele." She shut the door behind her with a soft click and paused outside of it, taking a deep breath as she heard Adele collapse into sobs on the other side.

She hurried away from the family wing as quickly as she could, trying to escape to the safety of the gardens, when she caught sight of Khevin up ahead. His eyes lit up with pleasure at the sight of her. "Delphine! Going for a late-night stroll?" He glanced past her towards Adele's door. "I was going to check on Adele, see if she's-"

"I wouldn't recommend that." He faltered, staring at her; Delphine returned it with an uneasy grin. "We've sort of had a little falling out. I'd steer clear for a bit."

"I see."

She was extremely grateful that he didn't pursue the subject. A sort of awkward silence followed, and Khevin shifted uncomfortably, obviously too polite to simply excuse himself, but unsure of what to do with himself in the meantime. Delphine squinted her violet eyes at him, studying him closely. His eyes shifted from the floor, only to see her staring, and went right back down again.

Delphine giggled, amused at his boyish uncertainty and impeccable manners. "You know, Roxana would have liked you." The thought was hard to speak aloud, but for some reason, Delphine thought she should say it.

Khevin looked up, taken aback. "You think so?" His eyes shifted to the side this time. "She was a handsome woman…I even had the pleasure of a few dances with her during our few brief encounters."

He seemed to be drifting, perhaps thinking of what could have been, something that was gone now. She'd have none of that. It was time to snap him back to reality and the task at hand.

"Khevin, what were you planning on doing now that you've delivered your message to my sister?"

He raised his eyebrows as he focused on her again, obviously a bit surprised at her blunt, informal way of getting to the point. Well, if she was right about this particular male, he'd have a lot of time to get used to that.

When she didn't get an answer, she raised an eyebrow. Apparently he hadn't even thought about his next plan. She smirked slyly; perhaps Adele had worked her magic on him already.

She cleared her throat and made a stab for formal speech. "Perhaps you should attend to the needs of the Lady for awhile longer. I think she would welcome your company, and…" This was where formality failed her; Delphine tsked in annoyance.

Apparently she had given something away, because Lord Khevin studied her carefully now. "What are you saying, and why?"

Stewing, Delphine chewed on her lip, but in the end decided in favor of just throwing it all out there as per usual. "I know Adele has a lot of protection around her already, and this might be hard for you because you are new, but…well…you are Adam's friend. And if what you said was true, I think you know as well as I where he's going to eventually end up."

He just stared at her for a few seconds. He wasn't stupid, just considering the implications, and slowly coming to a conclusion. "You want me to stay here with Adele because I know Adam better than anyone and might be able to talk to him."

Delphine just nodded.

He smiled warmly. "All right. And where will you be?" He faltered, alarmed at the sudden pained expression on her face.

"I have to go back to Trisor for my training." His eyes narrowed, studying her face. Damn him, he saw too much, but thankfully had the sense not to ask her about it. He nodded, accepting the truth that wasn't the whole story and she sighed with relief. "Thank you."

**6/Delacova**

Khevin Tannsley sat at his windowsill, reading a book by the morning light. He was content here, although it was strange being back in Delacova and not staying at his father's house…or with Adam. But there was nothing to tie him back to those places right now, and he liked the people who lived at the Ashlyn Manor. _They don't all live here_, he corrected himself again. Though sometimes it was hard to differentiate between the people who lived in the manor with the frequent visitors. It seemed there was always something going on about the place. He silently pitied Adele's parents, kind, strong people who loved their family (and extended family) very much.

Taylor, as the Warlord of Delacova, Khevin was already somewhat familiar with, though not on a personal level. Everyone respected the Sapphire-Jeweled male who ruled their small village fairly. At home, Taylor was a dedicated father, a strong male figure but one who loved his girls very much; and Josephine was the sweetest woman he had ever met. It was a wonder how she had given birth to someone as icily-tempered as Delphine. From the moment he'd arrived, Josephine had gone out of her way to make him feel comfortable, even cooked most of their meals herself! Such a thing was normally unheard of among aristo witches, but no one in the household seemed to bat an eye at it.

In truth, it made him feel more at ease in such a gorgeous house. He was used to his father's modest house and the more wild temperament of Tawnar, but the way the people here seemed to flow…well, it felt very similar to his home Village.

Khevin was interrupted in his reverie by someone walloping his door and, a moment later, throwing it wide open. A youth he'd seen with Prince Christopher, who had a shock of blonde hair and spiky eyebrows, strutted in, followed closely by another whom Khevin recognized as the Prince's younger brother. Both wore identical maniacal grins as they stared at him.

Swallowing his heart, which had jumped out of his chest at their entry, Khevin watched as the Prince himself shoved the boys aside and made his way towards him. Another blonde around the Prince's age hovered uncertainly near the door.

_Well, this is certainly an interesting gathering. _Wondering what on earth this was all about, Khevin gave his attention to Prince Christopher, who stood at the head of the group looking acutely uncomfortable. Khevin couldn't keep his eyes from wandering to the two youths who stood at his elbow, grinning like fools. It was obvious who was orchestrating this event.

Prince Christopher coughed, then spoke. "We were going to go down to get a drink in the village. You wanna come?"

Khevin stared at him for a moment before smiling. "Sure."

"The Mischievous Pixie?" Khevin had stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the telltale sign with the vexing little vixen artfully carved into the wood next to the words. It was poised over a little tavern at the edge of town he'd never been in himself, but had heard about.

"Yeah, what of it?" Jeremy asked as he whisked past Khevin towards the front door, sounding almost offended.

Khevin chuckled to himself. It wasn't that he was disgusted at these aristo's choice in tavern, merely surprised. From what he'd heard, the Mischievous Pixie boasted some of the more…colorful crowds in the village. These people were certainly not like most aristos he'd met.

Before he could finish the thought, Khevin felt an arm go around his shoulders and clasp him tightly. He turned to see Christopher smiling broadly at him. "Come on, we'll show you what we males go do when we drive the females up the wall and they want us out of their hair for a while.

Khevin laughed as he was led into the tavern, settled into their "usual corner," and was handed his first of many drinks that night.

"So I figured since our females have started to all become friends, we should really get out and have a little 'male time' together." The younger of the brothers spoke up first. "Chris, Blaise, Marius, Khevin, and of course myself, Jeremy," he identified each of them, pointing in turn before raising his own glass. "Drink up—it's high time we had a little fun around here!"

That smile of his was infectious, and Khevin found himself returning it as he took a swig.

A few hours and drinks later, Chris turned to Marius, clapping him on the back. "So, how are things with that Christine girl, mmm? I hope our green-haired beauty hasn't caused you too many sleepless nights?"

Marius just rolled his eyes, looking a bit harried. "You'd be surprised how much trouble two teenage girls could do in the capital." Chris' smile broadened as he spoke. "But I'm sure since they are both back here to stay for a while, you can help me entertain our fair ladies." Just as quickly as it had appeared, the smile was slapped from the youth's face and replaced with a dry, blanched look.

"St-staying? I didn't know they were all staying in Delacova."

All the males wore similar looks of horror.

"Yeah, Adele and Christine just accepted a short-term contract to serve Lord Ashlyn in Delacova so they can stay here."

"Delphine isn't," Khevin offered tentatively. They all rounded on him, so he looked around and spoke a little louder. "She just told me she was heading back to Trisor for her training soon."

They all let out a collective sigh of relief, including those who'd just met her. Even Khevin found the witch a handful, even though he'd just gotten to know her a bit.

"It's not that I don't love her," Chris began, "it's just…Delphine is…"

"Prickly?" he offered.

Chris gave Khevin a grin and took a swig of his ale. They sat in silence for a few minutes, mutely taking drinks and looking around at each other. Even though he couldn't be sure, Khevin would just bet they were all thinking the same thing: that this was permanent, they were all realizing that they would all see a lot more of each other as the years went by. They would be an instrumental part in each other's lives and in running the Territory. He hid his smile behind his mug as he took another swig. Even though he was just a little older than they, he had realized this some time ago. It seemed like it was just settling on them. Whether they would accept it and the responsibility or not would be up to them.

"To Tirrador," he said solemnly, lifting his mug.

"To Tirrador," they all echoed, lifting their glasses as well and drinking. This seemed to break the silence that had endured, because as soon as they had all drunk, the little group erupted into laughter and warm conversation.

One thing, however, was clear to Khevin as he looked around at the group of young males gathered: he felt comfortable and accepted among them. It certainly _felt_ like the right thing, like this was what he should do…but was it? His thoughts strayed back to Tawnar and all the people there, but most of all to Adam. He should be here, too: this was his place as well. It felt sort of wrong to be here without his best friend, with these people Adam knew better than he did.

Did he really belong here? Didn't Lady Jesiah and all the people back at his village need him? Then Delphine's words came back to him: _I know Adele has a lot of protection around her already, and this might be hard for you because you are new, but…well…you are Adam's friend. And if what you said was true, I think you know as well as I where he's going to eventually end up._

Adele, the young Queen who was so innocent despite all her strength, so empathetic with those around her. Ah, how he loved her. He thought on this. Was this really his place, to be between Adele and Adam? Did he have the strength for it?

**7/Delacova**

He was back in his room after countless hours of male bonding over drinks and a casual but disturbingly competitive card game. The winnings? Hours spent with the females. Khevin had found this aspect of the gambling particularly hilarious. For all their complaints and groans, the males in their little group treasured time spent with their favorite ladies. Chuckling to himself, Khevin mentally pushed aside that thought and picked up a freshly written letter to Tawnar. The ink was still wet as his eyes combed the letter again, contemplating it.

_My Lady Jesiah,_

_I write to you from the Ashlyn residence in Delacova. I have been staying here for the past few weeks and have become quite fond of its inhabitants. I am writing because I would like to request to remain here for the time being. It has come to my attention that because of his fixation with the Lady Adele Ashlyn, there is a good chance that when Adam chooses to resurface, he will do so here. Please allow me to stay here so that I might relocate Adam and help him. _

_Wishing you all the best. Send my love to our people._

_Khevin Tannsley_

It sounded, granted, a bit formal, but then again he did serve Jesiah, and this was, for all intents and purposes, a formal request. He didn't know what she would do, as this was a big thing he was asking of her.

He _did_ know that he wanted to remain here, though. His little outing with the other males had simply galvanized that fact. He wanted to be beside Adele, no matter what happened; he'd come to realize that. He wanted to shield her and be there for her, but the strength of those feelings also scared him deeply. This wasn't how it was supposed to work, was it? He shouldn't be feeling these sort of things for a woman with whom his best friend was madly in love. But then again, the word "was" was the key here. What exactly did Khevin feel for Adele?

He tore his eyes away from the letter to look out the window.

_Adam, where are you?_

**8/Trisor**

The moment she had gotten back to the Black Widow training house in Trisor, Delphine had stormed into her room, ripped off the cloth covering her most puzzling web yet, and scowled at it. Regret and embitterment between her and her sister wasn't the only thing pulling her back to Trisor. Not only was there no better place for her to train before she came of age, but for days now she had felt an annoying tug from this damned web. Now that she was standing in front of it, the tugging suddenly stopped; it was an ordinary web again, with nothing new to show her except, "it's almost time."

Suddenly it was all too much. Delphine exploded and began to pace the room, glaring over at the web every so often. Her Purple-dusk Jewel sizzled with restrained anger as it hung around her neck. "It is almost time, almost, almost, _almost!_" she screamed at it, picking up one of her many projects and throwing it with a Craft-enhanced arm. It smashed against a wall, and she turned on the web, panting. "How many more of my friends have to die before I can _do_ anything?"

Her anger crested into pain as she looked at it. Her eyes became clouded with tears as she stared at the thin strands that refused to yield no matter how much she begged. It would just give her empty hope that she could only cling to, but why?

As she looked at the web through her tears, it began to draw her in as it had before, to comfort her and reassure her. Delphine knelt before it and slipped thankfully into the trance like slipping under blessedly cool water with burned skin.

She stood in a dark forest with thick vines that choked the life from the trees and unknown creatures that watched her from the shadows. One of them came running out of the darkness, intent on the kill. But the kill wasn't her; rather, it seemed like she was in the way of what it wanted. It stopped right in front of her, a bestial creature with a somewhat humanoid form. Sharp fangs gleamed in the moonlight and dripped with saliva as it stared at her, hating her for being in its way.

_Widow._ It glared at her with startlingly green eyes, daring her to move, but she wasn't afraid. It pled silently with her to help it, at a deep level that only she could understand, even as it threatened to crush her in its powerful jaws. She reached out to it, only to have it growl menacingly and skirt away from her, wild-shy but craving her help at the same time. Unafraid, Delphine stepped forward and placed her hands on its temples, ignoring its snarling protests. She used her knowledge to help it, though the effects were not immediately seen. It retreated from her, gazing uncertainly back at her, then snarled wildly as something interrupted them. Panic flared in her, fear for the unknown being that had stumbled upon them. Before she could do anything, however, it turned its back on them and returned to the alien, barbaric forest. It needed time to heal and return to humanity on its own.

Delphine was thrust from the vision abruptly, and she fell to the floor with a gasp. _Soon, you will know, _it said to her, and then faded completely. She lay there for a long time, thinking about what she had seen. She didn't understand it, but it didn't matter: finally, after all this time, she knew what her role was!

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Chapter 11 Preview:

_Delphine's eyes merely flickered up as she felt him approaching, the male driven so far beyond himself that he was nothing more than a hateful creature that acted on instincts._

_She'd woken up today and known. Today was the day, and she needed to be alone to do this. _

_Now it was midday. Delphine had been walking alone since that morning in the forest behind the manor, wearing her widow's weaves and waiting in a calm state for Adam to show himself. He would come to her, she'd done her part. She had faith in that, at least. But what she wasn't sure of was what she was supposed to do when that happened. She took a deep breath to calm herself down. It would be alright, she'd prepared as much as she could, now it would all simply fall into place like it was meant to._

_And then he was standing right in front of her._

At this point in time, I've realized I'm so bad at keeping deadlines that I don't even think I should give myself one to get Chapter 11 up. Just keep your eyes peeled, people._  
_


	11. Chapter 11

Yes, Finally, it is ready! I apologize for the severe delay in getting this chapter to you, but I wanted it to be the best it could be, and use all my skills I've learned to polish it to it's full potential. If I'd been lazy, I could have had it to you months ago. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the next installment to my story and the preview for the next chapter which I have actually been working on. Enjoy.

* * *

**~Chapter 11~**

**1/Tirrador**

The beast roamed the wilds, trying to escape. He lived off the land, killing or stopping to sleep when he exhausted the perpetual need to move. No one would recognize him now, a dirty, soulless creature haunting the deepest woods, destroying everything in its path. Muscles that had originally been honed to protect those he loved now pumped to drive him towards their destruction.

While a personal struggle destroyed him internally, he brutalized his physical body. He became something that ran on instinct. She should pay—not just for what she had done, for what she had tried to turn him into, for all the females who had ever toyed with him. She embodied everything that was wrong with the female sex: he had to crush her.

Flashes of memories came to him—her smiling, the warm feeling when she spoke or embraced him. At first, they drove away the disturbing thoughts; now they only fueled the flames.

_You've been thinking about it, glorifying it, lavishing in the thought of destroying her, _the voice that prodded him whispered, _but you haven't done it—not yet_. He would indulge in the thought of killing her but ultimately shrink away from it, turning instead to self-punishment by driving his body harder. Some part of him still wasn't willing to go that final step, to physically harm a Queen. But that part was diminishing, its voice fading into oblivion.

The only thing that held him back now was the act itself.

_You know where she is._

The thought stopped him. It shocked him back to the physical world where he stood on the edge of a cliff, overlooking some vast forest. He felt a small tug coming from behind him, pulling him in the right direction.

_Now…go!_

He howled like a wild thing and took off running.

_Adele!_

**2/Trisor**

Delphine started awake from a dream she knew had been part vision. Her jaw ached with the need to crush bones between them, to feel warm blood flow into her mouth; her powerful hands clenched and unclenched. Coming fully out of the dreamscape, the Widow realized what she was feeling, and that the hunger was not her own. Delphine felt her mouth go dry, her chest heaving in pain. She'd never imagined so much rage and pain could be directed at Adele.

It was time.

She got out of bed with purpose, planning to pack through the night and leave in the morning. There was no way she could back to sleep, but she couldn't show up in Delacova in the middle of the night—the last thing she needed was to put the males on edge. None of them needed to know the real reason she was heading back.

Delphine stopped packing and took a deep breath, looked over at the giant web sitting in the middle of the darkened room. The season had changed since Roxana's funeral, the winter snow releasing its icy claws on the land ever so slowly. She'd been waiting a few months now for her vision to come to fruition, and during that time, she'd thrown herself into learning her Craft as fast as possible, because she knew she'd need every ounce of it for her task. And now, it was finally time to put it into action.

A rift had formed between her and her sister, one that neither of them could breach. It didn't affect their daily lives, going somehow deeper, but she knew whatever this was, it was about protecting Adele. Even if Delphine was concerned about who her sister was becoming and what would happen if she didn't take the right path, this wasn't about Adele as a person. This was about Adele her Queen—_their_ Queen. This was her part in protecting the Queen she served.

Was she ready? She had not yet completed her training, though she'd thrown everything into perfecting it, thereby learning more rapidly than her peers in the time she'd been away. She just hoped it was enough.

**3/Delacova**

Chris was on the prowl, itchy with the feeling that something was happing, and that it was going right over his head. Since Delphine's unexpected return, he'd been on edge, and, as a male, he did not appreciate this particular combination of feelings.

_Damn that witch. _She knew something.

He wheeled around and headed outside to where the three witches were spending a little "alone time" in the gardens. This was "sacred" time upon which the males, for any reason, were not allowed to tread, since the rest of their time was considered open. After all, they needed a break _sometime_. Chris bared his teeth into a smile. Screw the rules.

He sauntered up to them, marshalling his patience in preparation to deal with the prickly pain in the ass that was Delphine Ashlyn. They each greeted him with equally dark looks.

He slapped on a charming smile. "Delphine, do you mind if I steal you for a bit?"

She gave him a sour look. "Do I mind?" She studied him. "I don't believe I really have a choice in the matter."

His smile didn't change a bit. "Absolutely none." He put an arm around her shoulders; she slipped hers around his waist; and the spun around, walking away from Adele and Christine.

When they were out of earshot, Delphine spoke. "That was rather dirty, Christopher."

"Oh, I think you'll find that I can be very dirty, Lady."

He heard her huff at his suggestive humor as she pulled away from him. "What do you want, Chris?"

"I want to know why you are here."

She turned to select an apple from a basket of fruits: they'd ended up inside the house. After taking a bite, she popped herself onto a barstool, chewing as she considered him. With graceful movements, he settled himself next to her and waited for her to swallow and come up with her first bogus excuse. He'd play her game…for now.

"Why do I need a reason to visit my home?" she asked, emphasizing the last two words.

So it would be like that. He gave her a sharp smile. "Come on, Delphine, you don't really think I'm as brainless as the other males, do you?" She shrugged, and Chris gritted his teeth, refusing to take the bait. "I've had years of experience with you females and your trumped up reasoning."

Delphine gave him a wicked, knowing grin. "I suppose." Violet eyes slid from him, inspecting the apple before selecting her next bite. He stewed, waiting for her to chew—damn her and her mind games.

"What if I told you it wasn't your business and you'd be better off leaving it alone?"

It shocked him—not the words themselves but of her tone, the way she held herself; even her eyes changed. She wasn't his childhood friend, Delphine, but a Black Widow, and a formidable one at that. Delphine was finally growing up.

Sighing, he leaned back. She knew what she was doing, and he'd learned long ago not to meddle with Black Widows when they had their sights on something; they had wicked ways of repaying your kindness. Delphine had her own reasons, and she was keeping her own counsel, for now.

One long look later, he turned from prodding friend to protective Warlord Prince. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

He searched her eyes, expecting the endless confidence she always exuded, but instead she gave him a shaky smile.

"No. But I'm sure I will."

**4/Delacova**

It was almost time: his revenge was within reach, she was so close! Blood pumped through his veins, dousing his vision in a haze as he pushed himself closer. He laughed aloud, a croaky, frantic sound. He could smell her psychic scent filling up this cursed village like rotten pus in a diseased boil.

All he wanted was to rend this corrupted abscess, destroy it forever. The smell of it was driving him forward to ride the killing edge hard.

This time, she would die. He would see her blood run, break her under his fists.

He would kill her, the Queen—Adele.

She would die, and so would anyone who stood in his way.

**5/Delacova**

Delphine's eyes flicked up as she felt him approaching, the male driven so far beyond himself that he was nothing more than a hateful creature acting on instincts. She'd woken up that morning and known: today was the day, and she needed to be alone to do this. Trying to convince the males to leave her alone for the entirety of the day without explaining why had been difficult—until Chris had appeared and rounded the troops up to go pile their attention onto the two remaining females.

Now it was midday, and Delphine had been walking alone since morning in the forest behind the manor, wearing her widow's weaves and waiting for Adam to show himself. He would come to her; in that, at least, she had faith. She was less sure of was what she was supposed to do when he did, but she'd prepared as much as she could. Now it would all fall into place, may the Darkness help her.

And then he was standing right in front of her.

Delphine jumped—she hadn't even heard him approach. May the Darkness be merciful, he looked like a demon. He wasn't in the Twisted Kingdom—not yet—but… Adam stood stock-still before her, staring, malnourished and unkempt; his ribs showed through tattered clothes, and every inch of him was covered in filth. Even so, his muscles bulged, surging with power. His eyes were sunken in their sockets, his face hollow and skeleton-like. But those eyes, they glowed with an unearthly malice that drove him beyond exhaustion to this place, for this deed.

_Widow._ She wasn't even sure he recognized her. She wasn't sure she recognized _him_.

She stared at him for a few seconds, speechless. This was a thousand times worse than anything she could have imagined. Then he smiled, grinning at her from behind those soulless eyes, and Delphine shivered.

"Prince Lathan."

His grin widened.

Distantly, she reflected that she hadn't really considered what she'd do when confronted with such raw hatred and unstable power far deeper than her own. She'd not prepared at all for a fight with such a dangerous creature, hadn't even calculated it as a possibility.

She thought about all these things, and then let them pass through her mind like water even as she reached up to either side of Adam's head, placing her hands with care against his temples. She was not afraid. Not. Afraid. He needed her help, _wanted_ her help.

In a trance-like state, she slipped into Adam's mind; she found herself outside his inner barriers, the mental walls that protected all of the Blood from their own, walls strengthened by one's power.

Which meant Delphine couldn't get in.

She waited outside the outermost barrier to see if he would willingly let her in, but he did nothing. While he wasn't actively opposing her yet, he wasn't going to help her, either.

Delphine concentrated. A Black Widow had done this to him: no one could deteriorate so quickly from a healthy, happy human being to something like this without mental interference. Since Adam wore the Green, his inner barriers were impossible for her to bypass by force; either the other Widow was stronger than Adam, which was doubtful, or she'd found another way to breach his walls. Delphine was unwilling to make the same intrusion and lose his fragile trust unless she had no other choice, so Delphine reached out to him.

_Adam, let me in._

A mental shiver, but he still didn't fight her.

_Adam, please,_ she begged. _I just want to help you._ All she needed was a moment for his trust to crack enough to open the doors so she could slip in and figure out what was wrong. He wavered, but it wasn't enough to sway him.

_Adam, I know Adele misses you. _

Delphine felt the mental gasp. She knew she'd plunged him into a psychological tub of icy water, but she saw her moment arrive: while he was vulnerable, his barriers quaked and parted a little. Delphine slipped between them and went straight for his core, wrapping herself around it, snake-like. She was in control.

In the physical world, his body vibrated under her fingertips from such an invasion, but Delphine held firm. And then they came at her: all his doubts and fears about Adele, like beasts with teeth and claws, ready to destroy her and Adam both.

_His vision was doused in red as he advanced upon his enemy, blood singing in his veins. Something within him screamed a battle cry as the woman in front of him was knocked off her feet. Her golden-red hair scattered in every direction as she turned to face him, blue eyes wide with terror as the Warlord Prince advanced upon her. He raised his weapon high above his head._

_Kill her!_

_ *No!* _Delphine shouted.

He paused, surprised at the intervention in his thoughts; then the next came.

_He _wanted_ to feel real skin bruise under his hands, see her blood run. The heat of the battle swept him away; the sweet caress of the violence, the zing in his veins. Just the thought of bloodletting and pain teased his instincts. Time seemed to slow to the steady beating of his heart. The Warlord Prince in him howled with hunger._

_ *Why? Why do you need to do these things?*_

_ He _needed_ to see someone pay for all the times they had tried to use him. And she had hurt him the worst of all of them._

_*Adele.*_

_Yes!_ _Make her feel the pain you've felt, make her pay for _all_ of them! Queens aren't exempt from payback when it is due._

_*No! Queens are never exempt from due punishment, but they are Queens! They should never be harmed.*_

_She didn't really want him, to her he was just a tool, she was just like all the others._

Delphine could feel the pain now instead of the raw anger, wounds that delved deeper, driving the violence and anger.

_The one woman he'd thought was different, whom he'd thought he could trust. Just when he'd thought it was safe to come out of his shell._

_*No! Adele would never do that! She'd never be like that!*_

_He thought she had been different from the others, but maybe he had been wrong._

_ *No, Adam, you weren't wrong! Adele is a good Queen and a good person. You know that.*_

_ She had always wanted something from him, to follow her around like a little trained puppy at her beckoned call, and then she had asked the hardest thing of all: to let her leave and sit around, waiting for her until she was finished playing with other males and felt like coming back for him._

The dark thoughts rolling off him ceaselessly were making Delphine ill. How could he ever think these things? She wanted to cry for him.

_*Adam…*_

_She was a Queen who didn't have as much raw power as he, who needed a strong male protector._ I wanted to be that protector. I would have let her use me…

His heart was bleeding, and Delphine knew the only way to help was to let it happen, to just hold him and let it bleed out.

_He was drowning in it, her greed. He couldn't breathe, couldn't move or even think. Adam was completely trapped in it. __Still, she wanted more, demanding more that he was happy to give._

_ It was exactly like those other women who demanded, who thought they were entitled to everything he could offer because he was standing in front of them. It was like that with her, too._

And then Delphine braced herself as she saw a figure approaching, knew who and what it was before it came close. Adele stood before her, with all her captivating beauty, but the memory of her had been twisted by Adam's psyche until she resembled something from a horror story. Her blue eyes glowed with predatory menace, face a bit sunken and mouth curved in a greedy smile with pointed, sharp teeth. She looked like some sort of ghastly succubus, seductive and terrifying. Her body was more succulent than Adele's had ever been, warped but maintaining her features and coloring. Adele reached for her, wearing a hideous grin, gluttony gleaming in her eyes. Delphine had to force herself not to be violently ill on the spot. Was this how Adam saw her now?

Steeling herself as the creature crept towards her, Delphine raised a bow, armed with an arrow of shining truth. She shot the arrow straight through the creature, and it released a hideous scream as it shattered into a thousand glittering pieces. When it faded, the real Adele stood there, imperfections and all—her strawberry-blonde hair, deep blue eyes, pale skin, eyes shining with warmth, affection, and laughter. Adam gasped as another memory came rushing back to him.

_Long hair that stuck to her spectral face from the rain and clung to her back; bright skin that glowed in the moonlight, making her look more vision than real. She seemed untouchable in her perfection, and yet as he stood, holding her, she had never felt more physical._

_He hadn't really said goodbye to Adele—not the way he had been hoping to. H__e had to go to Adele and give her the goodbye she deserved, the kind that wouldn't let her soon forget him._ Forget me not!

_*Adele?*  
He felt her stirring from a light sleep on the other end of the link. *Adam?* Confusion, then surprise. *Adam! What is it?* She was alarmed.  
He laughed softly. *Come out to your balcony.*  
He felt her pause, wary. *Why?*__  
__ *Just come.*  
__ Putting on a __grin, he held out the small blue flower and said the words he had rehearsed. "I wanted to give you this: it's a forget-me-not, because I never want you to forget about me." _

_ "Adam…" Mother Night, he loved her, and he wanted with everything in him to show her how he felt.  
Without thinking, he rushed at her as passion took over; slamming a hand against the house, he leaned towards, her but stopped there. She rose to meet him but paused at the last moment, putting a hand on his chest; glazed eyes met his intensely before she pressed their lips together and he took them into oblivion. He kissed her with all the love that he felt for her, with desperation and longing and fierce joy. _

_ Eventually, he pulled away, breathing harsh, his glassy eyes looking deeply into hers. She looked stunned and completely stunning, and they were both panting, faces mere inches apart searching one another's eyes._

Delphine watched, speechless at the romantic scene. This had really happened? What could she say in the face of something like this? Then she felt his pain double, as if he had been kicked in the gut by these memories he'd twisted inside himself.

_His heart ached: not a single letter in all this time, and no answer to his; four months of silence. He had given her time; maybe she was just busy, perhaps with her new friends and too preoccupied to bother with a fleeting romance. Only the romance hadn't just been fleeting for him. He had fallen in love with Adele, and at the same time, he couldn't push away the feeling that she had just forgotten about him, that she had only wanted him for the moment and then dumped him as soon as they were apart._

Delphine caught her breath at that. _*What? No, this can't be right! She wrote to you, Adam!*_

He completely broke down; he was not even listening to her at this point. _She doesn't want to be with me! I loved her, and she didn't love me back._

_ *No! Adam! I know Adele feels the same way!*_

She was thrust out of his mind and back into the physical world. Delphine gasped from the shock, moved her hands from Adam's temples to his shoulders, grasping them for support. She looked him over, and already, he looked worlds better.

"She doesn't want to be with me. I love her, but she doesn't love me back."

Adam's eyes filled. Tears spilled down his cheeks as heaving sobs wracked his body.

Delphine shook him. "Adam, Adele was writing you all that time!" He looked down at her with haunted eyes. "She never got any of your letters, either! Someone's been tricking you."

He stared.

"I know she hasn't stopped thinking of you, even though she doesn't like to talk about it. I know it's been hurting her that you haven't said a word since she left."

He stared at her desperately. She could do this. She could bring him back. She could make this right for him and her sister. Her elation soared but was eclipsed by the memory of her vision. Delphine closed her eyes painfully, because she knew what was about to happen and was powerless to stop any of it.

"Adam?" a small, disbelieving voice came from behind her.

_Adele._

Delphine opened her eyes to see Adam's gaze dart past her. Taking her hands off his shoulders, she turned around. There she was. Delphine had never seen Adele look more frail or uncertain than she did now. She heard someone else coming into the clearing.

"Adele, why did you go running off like that? I was-" Khevin cut himself off as he saw Adam. Then he was in front of Adele in a defensive position, looking sick to his stomach but determined. Adam was a threat to Adele and thus an enemy, for all that he was a friend; this was such a perfect disaster.

Adam's eyes moved from Adele to Khevin and back again; Delphine could almost hear what he was thinking.

"Adam, what happened?" Adele started to say, trying to move past Khevin. "Why are you-"

"Don't, Adele," Khevin said.

Adam's expression twisted from shocked to pained, and his face contorted. "Khevin…_Adele…_" He turned away from them all and bolted back into the forest.

"ADAM!" Adele screamed after him, but Khevin grabbed her and held her back.

Delphine closed her eyes, jaded. "Don't go after him. You can't help him right now."

"Why not?" her sister shouted.

"Because I've already done my best to heal Adam's mind," she answered. "He needs time to fix the rest on his own." Opening her eyes, she looked straight into Adele's. "Someone has done serious damage to his memories and his Self."

Adele stopped struggling to stare at her, horrorstruck; Khevin looked like he was about to be ill.

"Someone went into Adam's mind and twisted him," Delphine explained, "trying to mold him for their own designs. They planted a seed of hatred for you in his mind and let him take off with it. They were meant to twist his real memories of you into something fake, so he'd think it was his own idea and not someone else's. They wanted him become so enraged that he'd kill you."

Adele gasped, covering her mouth.

Delphine looked to the trees where Adam had disappeared into the forest. "That's why he came here today." When they said nothing, she continued, "It took a lot of skill and a lot of menace to do this. Someone wants you dead because you will be an important Queen in Tirrador, Adele, and you are in their way."

Delphine gave her Queen a long, hard look—there was no looking the other way this time, not like with Roxana. There was no way she could ignore such a blatant, calculated attack against her. She would finally have to face the facts, whether she wanted to or not.

Straightening, Adele swallowed hard, her eyes on the ground. "Do you think he'll come back?" she asked, almost in a whisper.

She thought about lying, she really did. But in the end, all she said was, "I don't know."

Adele nodded, still staring at the ground. "Delphine?"

Delphine watched as her Queen paused, as if on the brink of something, then withered, hunching, and shook her head. Fear blazed up in her stomach, but she couldn't say why or what she was so scared about. She was just afraid.

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_Chapter 12 Preview:_

*Did you feel that?* Blaises' sharp instincts had also picked up that angry stirring of power before it had been masked by Craft.

Chris felt himself glide down to the killing edge like a feather falling into place, and then made a fast descent to the Green like a stone dropping into water, creating ripples that would alert the other males that this was a fight. He felt their agitation in response and descended to their full power as he called in a bladed stick for a ranged fight.


End file.
